A Partridge Family Reunion II a sequel
by Cassidy McKenzie
Summary: Second in a series dealing with the Partridges lives several years later.
1. Chapter One

A PARTRIDGE FAMILY  
REUNION:  
PART II  
  
CHAPTER ONE  
  
Jay Levinson was one happy man. The final leg of this tour had just ended, and he was getting plenty of attention from all sides. Not as much as his superstar client, mind you, but just enough to make him feel noticed for a change.  
  
Keith had already been whisked into the cavernous backstage area, breathless and drenched with sweat. Jay was hoping he was resting, but he had a good idea what was going on back there. There would be at least two groupies chosen personally by the roadies to…help with the celebration of this last show, and plenty of champagne to go around, though Keith would not personally imbibe. The diagnosis of the singer's Hodgkin's disease eight months ago would see to that. No alcohol; it only made his symptoms worse. The disease had been in remission, now, for two months, but one could never be too careful.  
  
The blending of the music and the screaming crowd was still echoing in his ears as Jay made his way back to the dressing room. He didn't understand how Keith and the band could stand it, every night up there on that stage under those lights, listening to the feedback of the amplifiers and the audience. They must have nerves of steel.  
  
"Jay!" Artie, one of the equipment roadies confronted him in the hall, his young face flushed.  
  
"What's up, kid? Won't they give you any champagne?" Jay grinned.  
  
"Jay, it's Keith. Something's wrong, man."  
  
The smile disappeared as Jay followed Artie down the hall and around the corner. The two girls were standing in the hallway with a couple of the band members. One of the girls was crying, and the looks on their faces made Jay's stomach knot.  
  
He pushed into the room and found Keith sitting, of all places, on the floor, one knee up, the other leg straight out. His shirt was off and there was a look of pure agony on his face.  
  
"Keith! Hey, man, what's going on?" Jay knelt beside him.  
  
The singer looked at him, the pain he was feeling very evident in his eyes. "It's back, Jay…" Keith puffed.  
  
Jay didn't have to ask what he meant. He put a hand on Keith's shoulder. "Can you get up? Let's at least get you off the floor, then I'll call Dr. Shapiro." He got his hands under Keith's arms and carefully pulled him to his feet. Jay eased him onto the sofa, where the singer folded over, moaning and nearly falling back off. Jay made some adjustments, then hesitantly went to the phone, which was thankfully, not two feet away.  
  
Not taking his eyes off of Keith for one moment, Jay waited for the doctor's answering service to pick up. Damn them; why were they taking so long! Finally, a voice on the other end.  
"This is Jay Levinson, calling in behalf of Keith Partridge. Please tell Dr. Shapiro we need him over at the Auditorium. Keith's in a lot of pain. Thank you." Jay hung up and went back over to his client, putting his hand on Keith's back.  
  
"They'll send him right over. Can I get you anything?"  
  
His arms around his stomach, Keith coughed into the leather beneath his face. "No, just apologize to everyone, okay?" His voice was strained as he writhed there on the sofa.   
  
Jay smiled. Leave it to Keith to be concerned over everyone else's feelings. He was by far, the most professional, most considerate rock star he'd ever managed. He chalked that up to his upbringing. Shirley Partridge would be so proud of her son right now…  
  
Shirley!  
  
Jay looked down at Keith. "Want me to call your Mom?"  
  
Keith drew in a hard breath, rolling over more onto his back. "No. Not…not until I find out what's going on for sure…" He was hoping that this pain was the result of maybe a muscle sprain he'd gotten onstage, but he had an inkling that he was completely 100% wrong.   
  
Jay nodded.  
****  
  
Having gotten rid of the extra players in this celebration-turned-vigil, Jay paced the hallway. Dr. Shapiro had been in the dressing room, now, for over an hour. What was he doing? Surgery? Finally, the door opened, and the doctor's white head popped out. "Jay, can you come in here for a minute?"  
  
He didn't have to be asked twice. He bolted for the room, and found Keith still on the sofa, reclining against a pillow and a look of pure misery on his face. Jay's heart sank.  
  
"Looks like I was right," Keith tried to laugh it off, but failed. "I tried to hide from it, but it found me."   
  
Jay saw the kid's eyes well with tears. He looked at the doctor.  
  
Dr. Shapiro nodded. "He is out of remission. But that doesn't mean he can't go back in."  
  
"What…what can we do?" Jay shoved his hands in his pockets.  
  
"Just see to it that he gets his regular radiation treatments, takes all his medication…"  
  
"No." Keith almost sobbed it.  
  
The older men turned. "What?"  
  
The singer pushed himself forward. "Why should I go through that crap again? I did it before and look where it got me. Back to square one!"  
  
Jay pushed on Keith's shoulder, trying to make him stay down. "You're not serious. It GOT you remission."  
  
"A lot of good that did. It came back. It always comes back! Don't you see? It doesn't end, not until I do!" Keith was on the verge of hysteria. "I'm tired of this game, Jay."  
  
"I know you are, kid, but giving up's not the answer," Jay said firmly.  
  
"That's right, Keith. There are plenty more treatments out there. We can try some chemotherapy."  
  
At that, Keith shook his head, looking even more miserable. "I can't. I'm sorry, but I just can't." He swallowed, looking up at Jay. "Could I have some privacy, here? I need to call home."  
  
"Okay, sure." Jay relented. He handed him the phone. "We'll be right outside."  
  
As the two men left, Keith stared at the telephone there in his lap. Would Shirley be up? He checked his watch. One a.m., which meant it was eleven back in San Pueblo. What would he say? Hi, Mom, it's Keith, guess what, I'm dying? Again? Still? Fighting more tears, he shakily picked up the receiver and dialed, wincing with each button he pushed.  
  
"Hi, Mom? It's Keith." Hearing her voice, he felt the tears start to flow. Oh, how he wanted her here; not a thousand miles away…. "Mom, listen. I've got some bad news."  
  
****  
  
Shirley Partridge was in a panic. She hadn't been able to get hold of Laurie or Chris to tell them of their older brother's horrifying news. Tracy and Ken were already on their way up from Los Angeles, and Danny had promised to catch the next flight home as soon as he could find a replacement for his radio show. But thus far, Laurie hadn't responded to Shirley's repeated attempts at her home or office, and Chris, she was told, had taken a quick getaway to New York before he started his residency. Even Reuben was out of town, leaving the pretty mother of five to worry on her own for now.   
  
Keith had only made vague allusions to his coming home; he hadn't decided whether to or not. Despite her pleading with him, he wouldn't commit to it, and the tone of his voice had only deepened her concern. He'd mentioned just hitting the road on his own for a while, which terrified her the most. So, she'd called Jay and begged him to at least talk Keith out of that crazy plan. The boy couldn't be thinking straight!   
  
As Shirley sat alone there in the house, the fears she had only multiplied. Why wasn't anyone calling? Why couldn't they just all magically appear on the doorstep? She needed someone; anyone right now! As she stared hopelessly at the phone, it rang.   
  
She grabbed the receiver, trying to stay calm. "Hello."  
  
"Mom, what's going on? I have all these messages!" It was Laurie.   
  
Shirley choked back her tears. "I'm so glad to hear from you, honey!"  
  
Laurie went silent, then, softly, "Mom, what's wrong?"  
  
Shirley was weeping, now. "It's Keith, Laurie. He's out of remission."  
  
More silence. "Is he okay? Where is he?"  
  
"Oklahoma City. Oh, Laurie, he sounded so forlorn, so sad."  
  
"He's coming home, isn't he? He can't possibly tour…"  
  
Shirley took a shaky breath. "The tour's over, now, but he wants to take some time and be by himself. I told Jay not to let him, to send him home, but you know how your brother can be."  
  
Laurie's voice reflected a smile. "Boy, do I. Okay, Mom, just say the word. What do you want me to do?"  
  
Taken aback by her daughter's willingness, Shirley shrugged. "I…I don't know, Laurie. I'm alone here, and…"  
  
"I'll come up. I'm not doing anything that can't wait for a while. How about the others?"  
  
"Ken and Tracy are on the way, Danny's waiting for a replacement and I can't get hold of Chris."  
  
"What about Reuben?"  
  
"Out of town. I'm not exactly batting a   
thousand here," Shirley answered.  
  
"Okay, I'll keep trying Chris. You get hold of Danny and see if he can't get a flight that stops in Oklahoma City. Maybe HE can convince Keith to get his butt back home where it belongs."  
  
Just listening to Laurie take charge eased Shirley's mind. "Oh, wonderful, honey…thank you. You've been such a big help. You know, I'm sure Danny can convince Keith that it's the best thing to do. IF Jay can keep him there until Danny gets to him."  
  
Laurie laughed. "Oh, how I would love to see THAT little reunion! Keith's in for it! Call me again if you hear anything, okay? And don't worry, Mom. We'll all be there for you and Keith. It might take a while, but we will."  
  
"Thank you, darling. I'm going to call Danny, and I'll let you know when Ken and Tracy are here."  
  
"Okay, Mom. I should be up there by tomorrow afternoon. Remember what I said. No worrying!"  
  
As Shirley hung up, she shook her head. Easier said than done. She began to dial Danny's number.  



	2. Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO  
  
Keith winced as he shut the hotel room door, stepping out into the hall. He nearly tripped over his sportbag in doing so, and gave a quick glance to the door across from him. It was three in the morning, and he knew Jay would be asleep in there, but he didn't want to take any chances. Bending down to retrieve the sportsbag and the softsided guitar case that leaned against the wall, Keith grimaced again, this time from the ache in his back. Damn cancer, anyway. He was doing so good; attending every treatment session the doctor had set up, taking all the medications…and still it had reborn itself. He was beginning to feel just as he had before Chris had diagnosed him. All that puking from the radiation, all the pain and misery was moot; now he was getting pretty much the same thing from NOT taking anything. What was the purpose of that? He'd been lucky to retain a full head of hair; Dr. Shapiro had told him that hair loss would be a given, but he hadn't lost much. A few strands, here and there, and the doctor had marveled over such a feat. Danny had told him that even his hair was stubborn, and that brought a smile to his lips. Danny. And Laurie, Chris, Tracy and Mom. He didn't want to worry them, but he wasn't up to going home just yet. He needed time to think this through. He sighed, moving off down the hallway with his gear, hoping they would understand.  
  
Tears brimmed in his eyes and he could barely see the numbers to push on the elevator as it waited for him and before long he found himself in the lobby, going to the front desk. The girl behind the counter smiled; how anyone could look so pert and fresh at three in the morning was beyond him. He smiled back. "I'm checking out. Could you get me a shuttle to the airport?"  
  
****  
Tracy opened the door to Laurie standing on the stoop. "Laurie!"   
  
The girls hugged tightly, and Laurie pulled back, studying her little sister's figure. "You are looking great, Trace…any…news or anything?" she hinted, her eyes sparkling in the afternoon light.  
  
Tracy laughed, shaking her head. "If you mean am I pregnant, no! Gosh, Laurie, it's only been a few months!"  
  
Ken stepped up behind his wife. "It's not for lack of trying, either," he grinned mischievously as Tracy blushed.   
  
"Ken!"  
  
Laurie laughed, giving him a hug, too, and the three of them came into the living room, their arms about one another.  
  
"Where's Mom?"  
  
"On the phone. She spoke to Danny earlier, and now I think she's got Jay on the line," Tracy answered.  
  
"What about Chris? Any word from him? I tried to get through to him all the way up here on my cell phone, but he's still not there."  
  
"Nope, not a word. His roommate said he'd gone to New York, but he thought he'd be back by now."  
  
Laurie sighed. "And Keith…?"  
  
"He hasn't called since he told Mom about the remission. She's going up the wall."  
  
"I knew those brothers of ours were trouble," Laurie shook her head.   
  
Shirley entered, her face blotched with tears. Ken and the girl's hearts dropped.  
  
"Mom?" Tracy swallowed. "What's wrong?"  
  
"That was Jay. Keith took off early this morning." Shirley was about to start crying all over again.  
  
"Took off? What do you mean? Where did he go?" Laurie frowned, going to her and putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.  
  
"He doesn't know. He got up this morning and Keith had checked out of the hotel. The desk clerk said he'd asked for a ride to the airport!" Shirley bit back a sob. "He's trying to find out from the airlines where he went."  
  
Now, Laurie looked angry. "Why did he do this, Mom? Why would he purposely worry you; us? I swear, if I get my hands on him…" She hissed.  
  
"You'll give him the biggest hug you've ever given him, that's what you'll do," Tracy admonished her sister. "Mom, maybe he's heading home."  
  
Shirley sank down onto the sofa arm, looking very disconsolate. "Oh, honey, I hope you're right, but I have this terrible feeling that you're not…"  
  
Tracy stepped forward, hugging her mother as Ken looked uneasily around him.   
  
"Too bad Danny didn't get there in time."  
  
Shirley's head popped up. "Oh, Danny! I need to call him and tell him to forget about Oklahoma City…"  
  
"If it's too late, maybe he and Jay both can track Keith down," Laurie suggested.   
  
"I'm afraid, at this stage, Keith doesn't want to be tracked down. You didn't hear his voice, girls. He didn't even sound like Keith. I thought I was talking to a total stranger," Shirley shook her head sadly.   
  
Laurie, Tracy and Ken watched helplessly as Shirley went back into the kitchen for another game of phone tag.  
  
Laurie's eyes flashed anger once again. She reached into her purse and brought out her portable phone. "Well, I'm not going to stand around here and watch Mom hurt like this."  
  
"What are you doing?" Tracy wanted to know.  
  
"I have some friends who work at the airlines. I'm going to see if they can't tell me just to where our pigheaded brother flew the coop!"  
  
Ken and Tracy exchanged impressed glances.  
  
****  
  
The desert air permeated Keith's lungs. Even for March, it was hot in Las Vegas, and he quickly shed the jacket he was wearing, tying its sleeves around his waist. He saw a bus pulling up to the curb and he quickly gathered his bag and guitar and hurried toward it. Putting one foot on the stair, he smiled at the driver. "Do you go to the strip?"  
  
"Sure do. It's fifty cents." Came his answer and Keith stepped into the bus, digging in his front jeans' pocket for the money.   
  
As he deposited two quarters into the fare box, he noticed he was attracting stares from some of the passengers, and he kept his head down, sitting behind the driver as if he would protect him.  
  
The doors closed and Keith sat back in the seat. It had been a long time since he'd ridden in a bus; a public one especially. The sound of the diesel engine as the bus pulled into traffic brought back a flood of memories. If only it were fifteen years ago; half a life ago. His mother would be up front managing their psychedelic monster as best she could with five normally loud, misbehaving children in the back trying to play a game of License Plate Bingo or having a sing-a-long as Keith would try to teach the others the words to his new song with just a guitar and tambourine accompaniment. He longed for those days; he felt safe, then. No worries about venues; Reuben was the best manager in the business. Not that Jay was any less a competent manager himself, but Keith didn't feel the camaraderie with Jay that he'd had with Reuben. Reuben had practically watched him - all the kids - grow up. He knew their likes and their dislikes, their fears and their sorrows; he'd even come to memorize their middle names.   
  
And now, that everyone had grown into adulthood, things were never going to be the same again. Tracy was married, Chris was becoming a full fledged doctor, Danny was still talking and getting paid for it, Laurie was doing what she loved best and protecting women's rights with due process of the law, and Keith, well, Keith was doing what he loved best, too. Performing, writing music; it was in his blood; it was meant to be there, in every fiber of his being. Unfortunately, something else was there, too, something unwanted. He'd come here to forget the cancer, so why was he thinking about it? Damn it, why didn't it just leave him alone?!  
  
"Here's the strip, son. What hotel did you want?" The bus driver turned to him.  
  
Keith looked up. Gathering his belongings, he tried to shake off the despondency that threatened to overcome him. "This will do, thank you." And with that, he bolted down the stairs.  
  
****  
  
He was completely unaware of it, but Chris Partridge was feeling almost exactly the same flood of emotions as his eldest brother who was a good 2200 miles away.  
  
He hadn't done well on his latest batch of college exams, and that was only the beginning. Ever since he'd diagnosed Keith's Hodgkin's Disease, Chris had been thinking twice about his choice of profession. Yes, Keith's diagnosis had a personal attachment to it, and it upset Chris to have to tell Keith just how ill he really was. But, suppose the next awful diagnosis he made was upsetting, too, and the next…he didn't know if he could handle it! Perhaps he was too sensitive to be a doctor. His mother had always said she loved him for his sensitivity. But, a doctor had to be thick skinned; tough. Unemotional, at least to a point. He wouldn't be able to show his sorrow and his own pain for the people he treated.  
  
He sighed, looking pensively around him. He was on 42nd Street, for Pete's sake! One of the most fabulous places in the world! Neon signs glowed around him, announcing award winning plays and offering him two hours of sheer drama, comedy, excitement, but Chris wasn't buying; not right now. He caught a glimpse of himself in a storefront window. A rumpled, unshaven vagrant stared back at him and Chris gasped at his own reflection. Was this really him, looking as if he'd slept in the subway (despite Petula Clark's melodic warning)? Disheartened once more, the twenty-two-year-old reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a five dollar bill. He wondered just how much liquor he could get for it, here on 42nd Street….  
  
****  
Danny Partridge was surrounded. Ken had gone to the market, leaving him alone with three hysterical females, and it wasn't pretty.  
  
"You have to get a flight to Vegas!" Tracy was begging as Danny found himself literally backed into a corner.  
  
"Please, Danny, you're the only one Keith will listen to!" Shirley was saying, as he looked up and saw Laurie on the phone.  
  
"Yes, I need to book a roundtrip ticket from San Pueblo to Las Vegas…" she was saying.  
  
"Wait a minute!" Danny cried, reaching over and snatching the phone from Laurie's hand while fending off his little sister and his mother with the other.  
  
He slammed the receiver back into its cradle and suddenly there was a welcomed silence. He put his hands out, waving them back away from him. He'd been in the house ten minutes and they'd ambushed him at the door, saying something about Keith being in Las Vegas and telling him to go get him.  
  
"Jeez, you guys just won't let up, will you?" he shook his head. "Look, I didn't say I WOULDN'T go to Vegas and find Keith, I said I doubted I COULD find him. It's a big town, you know!'  
  
"Keith is a very well-known figure, Danny. SOMEBODY'S bound to know where he is," Laurie frowned, putting a hand on her hip.  
  
"Yeah, and who's to say he's still there? He could be anywhere; L.A., or Honolulu...I'm sorry, but I am NOT going to go on a wild goose chase."  
  
Tears glistened in Shirley's eyes. "Danny, he's not well. He's not thinking clearly. And he's your brother."  
  
Seeing her break down, Danny's heart ached. "I know, Mom, but…okay, suppose I DID find him. He wouldn't listen to me, not when his mind is already made up. The guy is stubborn beyond words. We all know that." He put his arm around her shoulders, trying to get her tears to stop, but it only made it worse.  
  
"Danny, please." She swallowed.  
  
He winced, pausing, then, "Okay, but don't be surprised if I come home without him."  
  
Tracy and Laurie hugged him at the same time, and when they were finished, Shirley went into his arms and he smiled, rubbing her back as she whispered a thank you into his ear. It was usually Keith getting all of this attention; this was nice in a sad sort of way.  
  
"But let's try and get hold of Chris first, okay? If I have to go to Vegas and play detective, I want the other half of Partridge and Partridge with me," Danny smirked.  
  
Laurie bit her lip. "No one's heard from him, not in a week."  
  
Danny lifted an eyebrow. "If you think I'm flying all the way across country to find CHRIS, too…"  
  
Tracy smiled. "His roommate thinks he's just living it up in New York. But if worse comes to worst…?"  
  
Danny moaned.   



	3. Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE  
  
The motel looked shabby from the outside, and wasn't much better inside. Keith knew that he wouldn't be able to check into one of the big named hotels without drawing attention to himself, so the Sunset Inn just behind the strip was his only hope. He pushed the door to his room open and was quite taken aback with what he saw. He had been in some dives in his life, but this took the cake! The wallpaper was a garish red and gold and was peeling from the walls, the bed was propped up on four cinder blocks and the dresser leaned to the right, missing two of its legs. He didn't even want to think about checking out the bathroom as he stepped in tentatively, hoping not to meet any other living creatures that may be scurrying about.  
  
At least it was clean; he could smell the chemicals that had been used recently. To cover up what, he didn't want to know. Putting his bag down on a dilapidated chair next to the dresser, Keith instinctively brushed the brightly colored bedspread off and sat down on the bed. He was exhausted and hurting, now, wanting nothing but to fall asleep. As he looked around the room, tears came to his eyes. He couldn't for the life of him figure out why he was even here. He guessed it was to run away from his problems, though he knew that if he were really thinking straight, he would be home, with Mom, letting her take care of everything. At least he would have someone to talk to, someone to hold his hand when the pain became too much. But he didn't want to put her through this. And, too, he knew that before long, all of his brothers and sisters would be there, too, fussing over him and worrying about him, forsaking their own lives for his, however short it would end up being.  
  
Oh, god, he was going to die! He might not see Christmas, or even his birthday; nor Mom's birthday, which was approaching rapidly. Tracy's birthday was a week ago, which meant that Shirley's wasn't far behind. Could the cancer take him that quickly? He felt a shiver spear through him and he clutched his arms, suddenly feeling alone and afraid.   
  
He began to sob, deep, penetrating sobs that shook his whole body and he fell onto the bed, curling up, wanting so badly to be held and knowing he couldn't be. Maybe not ever again…oh, boy, Keith Partridge, what have you done?!  
  
****  
  
The room was smoky, hazy, with a band playing some pretty horrible music in the background and the sound of someone playing pool somewhere beyond the shrouded darkness. Chris sat at the bar, blankly watching the television above the bartender's head as it flickered in the low light. He clutched the beer bottle in his hand as if it were the last thing he owned, which, for the moment, it was. He'd spent his last five bucks on beer and a lousy tasting taco that really had something to be desired.   
  
He really wasn't a drinker; until tonight, he'd only had maybe four beers in his life. As he stared down at the now empty bottle in front of him, he just shook his head. What in the world was he thinking? Mom wouldn't be happy if she could see her youngest son like this. For all she knew, he was in the dorm, studying his life away to make her proud of him; so she could say, "My son, Chris, is a DOCTOR."  
  
But he wasn't a doctor; it just wasn't going to happen. He would just have to do something else with his life, but what? The only other thing he really knew was his drumming. He was good; great, in fact. Keith had once asked him to be his drummer in his solo act; something that Chris was humbled by. Keith was his hero, he really was, and one hell of a fine musician. To be asked to play in his band was an honor beyond words. And, stupidly, Chris thought, he turned him down. All for the sake of thinking he, Chris Partridge, could be a doctor. What a fool he was!  
  
Chris turned his attention to the lousy music being put forth by this so-called band up on the makeshift stage across the room. He concentrated on the beat, which was so off, it made his skin crawl. Too bad Keith wasn't here; he'd have those guys sitting in the audience in no time, showing them what REAL music sounded like, and then he would blow them away with his prowess on the guitar. Chris smiled, in spite of his misery. That drummer could use some lessons. Without even thinking twice, Chris got down off the barstool and sauntered over to the four guys as they finished mangling what had slightly resembled "Stairway to Heaven."  
  
"Mind if I sit in on a song or two?"  
  
The drummer shrugged. "Think you can do it, kid?"  
  
With one arm tied behind my back, Chris thought, but out loud, he said, "I think so."  
  
The man stood up, handing the sticks to the youngster. "She's all yours. I gotta take a leak anyway."  
  
That was more than I needed to know, Chris said silently, and slipped into the chair. Looking at his new bandmates, who obviously didn't care WHO was drumming, he readied himself. "Name your tune."  
  
"Let's hear you first."  
  
Shrugging, Chris started the beat, slowly at first, then built up speed. He pounded out his problems, taking his frustrations out on the drumheads as hard as he could.  
  
He drummed for a good five minutes, then ended it abruptly, out of breath. He looked up at the other guys, who just gaped at him, completely and totally impressed.  
  
"Who ARE you, man?" The one with the bass guitar stepped forward, his face reflecting awe.  
  
Chris smiled wearily. "Chris Partridge. Musician," he said.  
  
****  
Keith was in agony. The back pain was immense, now, and he found, to his horror, he was out of medication. Frightened and alone, he huddled on the bed, bearing the ache as it ravaged him, rendering him immobile at times. When it peaked he would moan, his body shuddering from the fight, then the pain would ease a bit, and he lay there, exhausted. Death would be a blessing; it really would, but to die here, alone in this place…he couldn't let that happen. His mother would be livid…  
  
Trembling, he reached over and pulled the phone down off the nightstand. The effort caused him more pain and he waited it out, then, barely able to see the keypad, he dialed.  
  
****  
  
Chris slipped into the dorm room, looking, for all it was worth, haphazard and rumpled. It was mid afternoon and Eddie was in class. For that, he was grateful. No explanations of his four day disappearance would be needed right away. All Chris wanted to do now was take a hot shower.   
  
He saw a note in big, bold red letters on the fridge: Chris, call HOME!!!!, and in his weariness, he couldn't focus on the importance of it. Shrugging it off, he headed for the bathroom, scratching at his unshaven face. If Mom could see him now…  
  
The phone rang, and Chris toyed with the idea of ignoring it for the moment. Then again, there was that note.  
  
Sighing, he picked up the receiver. "Hello," he muttered, still scratching the stubble on his cheek. Chris frowned. "Yeah. Who's this?"  
  
The voice on the other end was unrecognizable, faint. He almost hung up, then reality struck. "Keith? What's the matter? I can barely - " His expression softened, and then darkened. "Oh, god…where are you?  
  
His heart pounding, he grabbed a notepad and pencil. "Look, let me call Mom, and then I'll catch the first flight out. Yes, she needs to know! Keith, listen to me. Get your butt to the hospital, and I'll meet you there. I know, pal, I know." Chris swallowed. Hearing the pain in his brother's voice was heartbreaking. "But, can you stand it for that long? It's gonna be hours before I get there!" He scribbled on the notepad. "Okay, Sunset Inn, I've got it. If the pain gets too bad, though, go to the emergency room. Okay, I'll see you as soon as I can. Hang in there, buddy."  
  
He pressed the receiver buttons and quickly dialed San Pueblo.  
  
"Danny? What are you -?" He paused, shoulders drooping. "Yes, I know. He just called me. He's in bad shape." Chris began to pace. "He's at some seedy motel, the Sunset Inn. I'm taking the next flight. Great, then I'll meet you there. Since you'll be there before me, get him over to Desert Springs Hospital. He's bad, Danny. Yeah, I know, me, too. Thanks." With that, Chris hung up and pulled a suitcase from his closet.  
  
****  
Keith awoke with a start. He'd been dreaming he was seventeen again and back in San Pueblo. He and Danny were arguing over a song arrangement and Shirley and Laurie were trying to intervene…it was a familiar old scene, and Keith felt tears come to his eyes when he realized that it was only a dream. He was not seventeen, he was not in San Pueblo and neither Danny, Laurie nor Shirley were there.   
  
The pain, however, WAS still there, nagging at him, though not nearly as forceful as before, and he managed to roll over and look at his travel alarm. One forty-five. He'd only called Chris an hour ago; hardly time for him to get to the airport, let alone clear across the country.   
  
With a groan, Keith sat up, hunching over and putting his head in his hands. Chris had told him that if the pain got unbearable, he should go to the emergency room. He pondered his brother's words. How bad was unbearable? Worse than now? Keith swallowed, leaning back, lifting his chest, arching his back and looking ceiling ward. The pain actually eased off a little with the motion and, a tad surprised, he stretched again. Maybe a little exercise was the answer. If it took the edge off the ache in his back, he was willing to walk to the Hoover Dam.   
  
Easing out of the bed, he grabbed the tattered phone book from beneath the telephone and thumbed through it. He was hungry, couldn't remember the last time he'd even eaten! A restaurant had to be nearby, and if he could walk off this pain and satisfy his hunger at the same time…  
  
There was a listing for a café just about a block away and he nodded. He would have plenty of time to get over there and back. Maybe; if this darned backache didn't debilitate him, first.   
  
First, though, he would need to shower. Keith Partridge just could not be seen out in public looking like a bum. He grabbed a change of clothes and headed into the bathroom. He caught his reflection in the mirror and was startled. His hair was mussed from the restless sleep he'd encountered over the last little while, and there was a day's growth of stubble on his face. His eyes were bleary, bloodshot and his clothes were rumpled. He looked like he'd been to hell and back and felt like it, too. Shaking his head, he reached into the shower and turned on the water, then slowly began shedding the remnants of the past two days.  
  
****  
  
The note, written in Danny's barely legible writing and pinned to the bulletin board in the kitchen, left Shirley, Laurie and Tracy in the dark. It read, simply: Mom, girls, left for Vegas, 2 p.m. flight. Will call when I find Keith.  
  
Laurie was angry as she watched Shirley sink into a chair at the table. "I can't believe he left before we got back! He promised he'd wait."  
  
"Well, it's probably the only flight he could get," Tracy, once again the pacifist, checked her watch. "It's still half an hour before his plane leaves. We could call the airport and have him paged."  
  
"He's already boarded." Laurie sighed. "At least he's on the way. Now, if we can just get hold of the other one…" She reached for the phone as Shirley closed her eyes.  
  
Their mother was exhausted, Tracy could tell. The little shopping spree they'd taken her on to forget about her prodigal sons had worn her to a frazzle, and coming home to this news wasn't helping her morale any.  
  
Tracy sat down beside her, putting her arm around her shoulders. "You should try and get some sleep, Mom. I know you didn't sleep all night. Danny won't be there for another couple of hours, so it will be a while before we hear anything.  
  
Her hand shaking, Shirley wiped at some stray tears on her face. "I don't know - "  
  
"We promise to call you if there's news. You're going to wear yourself down, and then what?"  
  
Sighing, Shirley pushed herself up from the table. "I suppose you're right." She turned. "But the second you hear something…"  
  
"Cross my heart," Tracy smiled, making an 'x' over her chest.   
  
As Shirley left the room, however hesitantly, Laurie very nearly slammed the receiver back into its cradle. "Still no answer! I am going to buy that boy a portable phone for Christmas!"  
  
Tracy smiled. "You'd think that as long as he's going to be a doctor, he would at least get a pager."  
  
"That would help," Laurie went to the coffee pot. "Want a cup?"  
  
"No thanks. My nerves are already on edge. I wish Danny would have taken Ken with him. All we need is for HIM to get lost, too."  
  
A smile tugged on Laurie's pert lips. "I remember there was a time when we wished all three of them would get lost."  
  
Tracy nodded as her sister joined her at the table, her coffee steaming in the cup she clutched in both hands.   
  
"I hope Keith's not in pain or anything. I hope he's taking care of himself," Tracy said.  
  
"Just the fact that he took off like that makes me wonder if he's even in his right mind. I can see him, now, huddling on some street corner with his guitar, having people ignore him, and enjoying the anonymity of it all. He's been so recognizable for so long, this would be like starting all over." Laurie shook her head. Her brother was indeed very famous, and while she knew he loved the celebrity life, he'd often confided to her that once, just once, he would love to be able to go somewhere and not be bothered because of who he was. She did not envy him his life.  



	4. Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR  
  
Laurie was partly right. Keith Partridge had been just another faceless, nameless person on the Las Vegas strip; until he entered the restaurant. He'd planned on just being in and out with a takeout order, and while the going in was easy enough, getting out was another matter entirely.  
  
He placed his order and was told by the kid at the counter that it would be a fifteen minute wait. Not exactly wanting to sit down, Keith wandered over to the magazine rack sitting near the counter and picked up a copy of Rolling Stone. As he thumbed through it, he heard his name cried in that all-too-familiar female tone and instinctively, he looked up.  
  
A booth full of four or five young girls rose as one, reaching in his direction, their faces full of emotion and he tossed the magazine aside, looking confusedly for the door. Crap; maybe he shouldn't have showered and cleaned up after all!  
  
He knew he would never be able to outrun them; not with his back hurting the way it was, so he did the next best thing. He stopped, turning to them, holding his hands out as they came rushing toward him.  
  
"Ladies, ladies," he shouted, still backing toward the door. He made a 'time-out' signal with his hands and surprisingly, they skidded to a stop right before they reached him. "Look, I'd love to give you my autograph, but let's not make a scene here, okay?" He looked over at the rest of the patrons, who were gaping at him, as were the employees. The kid at the counter was no less bewildered, and Keith gave everyone a dimpled smile. For a brief second, he considered taking his whole little entourage into the parking lot, but figured he'd be a little safer here, surrounded by onlookers. "Okay, now, let's be civil here. Anybody have a pen?" He looked over at the order taker, who dumbly handed his pen over. "Thanks," Keith told him, turning back to the girls. "One at a time, now." Amazingly, the girls complied with his request, encircling him as he quickly signed his name to the scraps of paper, mostly napkins from the table, they produced. It was amazing how, over the years, he'd learned the tricks of the trade. He'd turned a near mob scene into a serene, short-lived autograph session with just a few calm words.  
  
After it was over, the restaurant manager ushered the girls out the door, then turned to Keith, looking apologetic. "I'm sorry about that, Mr. Partridge. Your food will, of course, be on the house."  
  
"No, no, that's okay. No harm done," Keith smiled wearily as his order was brought to the counter.  
  
"I insist," the manager put his hand on Keith's arm as he drew his wallet from his back pocket.  
  
Another dimple. "Thank you, but my mother always taught me to pay my own way."  
  
"There is another way you could pay," the man said rather slyly.  
  
"Really? How?"  
  
He produced a menu. "Sign this. My daughter will kill me if I let you go without your autograph."  
  
Keith laughed, nodding.  
  
****  
  
Danny pushed his way through McCarren Airport, the bag on his shoulder growing heavier with each step. He'd overpacked again, he always did. He knew he should have checked the bag on, but worries over Keith's well being had clouded his mind. Chris's phone call was an answer to a prayer, even with the not-so-pleasant details. What in God's name was Keith doing in a flea-bag motel, for one thing? The guy had enough dough to book the most luxurious suite at any of the big named hotels! It had to be the lack of medication; otherwise, Keith would never put himself in such circumstances. Danny just hoped he was all right, but from Chris's assessment of their brother's distressed call to him, Keith was bad shape, physically, and obviously, mentally as well.  
  
His stomach tightening, Danny found himself outside of the airport, waving down a cab. Dammit, Keith, he thought, why are you torturing yourself, your family?   
  
A cab pulled to the curb and the driver got out, taking Danny's bag and asked his destination. The look on the man's face when Danny answered was enough to make him curse his brother under his breath once again.  
  
****  
  
Keith was realizing that the walk to the restaurant was not the answer to rid himself of the pain, for it was back and worse than ever by the time he reached the motel room. He fumbled for the key as the latest surge struck and he moaned, sinking slowly to the cracked cement just in front of the door. Wave after wave of pain began to batter him, and he huddled there against the door, enduring it for the most part, but weakening with every new rush that swept over him. It made him incognizant for the moment, and he neither saw nor heard the cab pulling into the parking lot behind him.  
  
Seeing his brother on the ground, completely incapacitated, made Danny's stomach knot once again. The car had barely stopped before he pushed open the door and began running toward him.  
  
"Keith!"  
  
Funny, it sounded like Danny's voice…Keith thought through the haze of pain.  
  
"My god, Keith!" Danny put a hand on Keith's shoulder and gaped when he saw the agony in the exquisitely handsome features he'd been so jealous of all these years.  
  
"Danny?" Keith asked weakly, still foggy from the pain.  
  
"Come on, man, let's get you to the hospital!" Danny bent down, trying to get his hands under Keith's arms, but his brother fought him off, even in his misery.  
  
"No! I just want to go inside…I'll rest and it will stop…"  
  
"Damn it, Keith, listen to me! Chris wants you in the hospital! He's gonna meet us there - "  
  
"No!" Keith cried again. "Just leave me alone! Get away from me…"  
  
Frustrated, Danny straightened. He started back for the cab, where the driver was retrieving his luggage.   
  
"Want me to wait? I've gotta charge you."  
  
Glancing back at Keith, Danny shook his   
head. "No, I guess not." He pulled his wallet out, handing the man a twenty dollar bill. "Thanks, and keep the change."  
  
The driver grinned. "Thanks, pal. And…uh, good luck," he nodded toward Keith's inert figure in front of the door.  
  
Danny smiled, hoisting his bag. "Thanks, I'm gonna need it."   
  
He watched the cab turn around and leave, then went back to Keith as he still shuddered with pain. Noticing the containers from the restaurant sitting nearby, Danny smiled.  
  
"At least you're feeding yourself. Mom was worried about that."  
  
Keith closed his eyes. Mom. What would she think if she could see him, now?  
  
Danny's hand was on his shoulder, now, as he bent beside him once again. "Come on, let's go in before the cops come and arrest you for vagrancy."  
  
Relenting, Keith allowed Danny to pull him to his feet, gritting his teeth against the pain the motion was causing. His hand trembled as he pulled the key from his front pocket and Danny took it from him, trying to steady his brother and open the door at the same time.  
  
When the door opened, revealing the shabby surroundings, Danny almost swore out loud, but held his tongue. Grabbing Keith around the waist, he got him to the bed and eased him down, still staring at the condition of the room. Had Keith completely lost his mind?  
  
A groan from the bed brought his attention back to his brother. "I brought some aspirin with me. It probably won't help much, but Chris said you were out of your painkillers."  
  
Curled up on the bed, Keith winced. "Sure, Danny, anything…there's some cups in the bathroom…"  
  
Danny ventured inside the bathroom, still disgusted with what he saw. Filling a plastic cup with water from the sink, Danny held it up for a close inspection, as if he expected to find treasure in there or something. Shaking his head, he went back into the other room. Keith had managed to sit up, now, and Danny quickly got into his bag to get the aspirin. Handing the water to Keith, the younger man pried off the lid and dumped two tablets into Keith's hand. Watching him down them, Danny sat down on the edge of the bed.  
  
"So, Keith," he said off-handedly. "Stevie Wonder decorate this place?"  
  
Keith pulled a face. "I couldn't exactly check into the Hilton. I wanted to keep a low profile."  
  
Danny nodded. "This is low, all right."  
  
"Never mind the snide remarks. What are you doing here?"  
  
"Question is, what are YOU doing here? You realize you've got three very hysterical females in San Pueblo wondering what the hell you think you're doing?"  
  
Keith sighed. "What, Mom didn't call the President, too? I told her I was going to take a sabbatical."  
  
Danny laughed. "You call this a sabbatical? The dregs of society wouldn't come here. They'd have to redecorate it to condemn it."  
  
Keith laid back down, pain clawing at him from every direction. Danny noticed the look on his face and his expression softened.   
  
"You're really out of remission, huh?"  
  
Keith nodded silently, staring at a stain on the ceiling, trying to ignore the pain and hoping Danny couldn't see it in his eyes. "Yeah," he finally gulped. "Back to square one."  
  
"Maybe they can strengthen the doses, put you on more milligrams of whatever it is you're taking - "  
  
"No," Keith almost moaned, his voice bitter. "I'm not gonna fight any more."  
  
Danny stared at him. "That's crazy."  
  
Keith's eyes met his brother's. "Crazier than puking for hours on end? Crazier than having my resistance get so low I can't even catch a freakin' cold for fear of pneumonia? I am going to die, Danny. There's no getting around that. I'm gonna go anyway, I might as well do it fully conscious."  
  
Danny blinked and looked away. He hated it when Keith was like this, talking about death. The only person ever to die on him was their father, and Danny was so young at the time, he really couldn't remember. He knew it had been quick; one moment he was there, and the next he wasn't. But Keith…  
  
Danny pushed himself up off the bed, turning his back to his brother. It was silent in the room, until Danny whirled on him, fire in his eyes.  
  
"I am NOT gonna sit here and listen to you give up on yourself! Not when there're things that can be done." He leaped on the bed, grabbing his brother's shirtfront. "I don't care what YOU want. I want you to fight this, and by damned, I will do everything in my power to see it happen, understand?"  
  
Surprise at Danny's boldness quickly turned to anger, as Keith yanked Danny's hand away, moving painfully out from under his presence. "You're the one who doesn't understand. You don't have to live with the pain, the nausea; the fear…" He managed to sit up, then, shivering and holding his arms, he hunched forward. The pain was intense and he fought it, the color draining from his face.  
  
Danny swallowed. "Oh, god, Keith, I'm sorry…did I hurt you?"  
  
Keith shook his head quickly, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. The tears were spilling harder, now, and Keith couldn't help but sob.  
  
Danny got up, rounding the bed and putting an arm around his brother's bony shoulders. "It's okay, buddy…I'm here. We'll get through this somehow…" He gently pulled Keith into him, letting him cry against his chest, and fought tears himself.  
  
****  
Chris stared open-mouthed at the motel as his taxi pulled into the parking lot. THIS was to where Keith had run? Looking at the paper where he'd scribbled the name of the place that his brother had given him, he double-checked the weathered sign. Sunset Inn; it was the right name, but…  
  
He cleared his throat. "Uh, sir, I think there's a mistake here. Is there another Sunset Inn in town?"  
  
The driver glanced back at his young passenger. "Not that I know of. Look, kid, you told me Sunset Inn and this is it. You want out here or not?"  
  
Chris took a deep breath. They'd already been over to the hospital, but Keith and Danny weren't there. If this was another wild goose chase… "Yes, I guess I do. Sorry for the misunderstanding."  
  
The driver shrugged, bringing the car to a stop. "No problem. Your tab's thirty bucks. That includes the little side trip to the hospital."  
  
Chris nodded, producing the money with a five dollar tip on top. "Thank you."  
  
"Need me to wait, sonny? I have a feeling this ain't what you wanted, either."  
  
"No, it's okay. I'm hoping you're right, but something tells me you're not. Thanks."  
  
They both got out of the car and the driver opened the trunk, grabbing Chris's bag. Chris took it, and was still staring at the neglected, decaying row of buildings in front of him when the cab drove off, leaving him there in the weed infested parking lot. Again, he looked down at the paper in his hand. Sunset Inn, Room 14. Swallowing, Chris forced his feet forward. Please God, he prayed, let this all be a mistake…  
  
He found the room easily and hesitantly raised his hand, knocking on the scuffed door. Half expecting a large man in a filthy t-shirt with a beer can in his hand to answer, he was pleasantly surprised to see Danny's face peer out at him.  
  
"Danny!"  
  
Danny glanced behind him, then slipped out the door, closing it softly, but not letting it catch. "Shhh, he just fell asleep!"  
  
Chris nodded, lowering his bag. "Is he okay?"  
  
"Not really. He won't go to the hospital. I tried, man."  
  
"Is he in pain?"  
  
"Yeah, but he still refuses to go. He's giving up; said he's not fighting it any more. I think it's the pain talking."  
  
Chris's eyes scanned their surroundings. "It's GOT to be the pain. Look at where we are!"  
  
Danny grinned. "My thoughts, exactly. He said he wanted to keep a low profile, and for that I can't blame him. He'd have no peace if he tried checking into a fancy hotel."  
  
"But this…this…rat hole!" Chris winced, noting the crack in the window and the huge dent in the door.  
  
"Not exactly Keith Partridge caliber, is it? I keep wondering just how many guys have bit the dust in this room alone!"  
  
Chris shuddered at Danny's inference. "We've got to convince him to get over to the hospital, Danny. Maybe his doctor in O.C. was wrong about the remission. It happens, you know."  
  
"Yeah, I guess it does. Maybe you can tell by giving him the once over." Danny nodded, opening the door wider. "The room's worse than it looks, by the way."  
  
Chris felt dizzy looking at the room before him, but when his eyes settled on his older brother asleep on the bed, the dizziness turned to disconsolation. Keith almost looked like death warmed over, and he had to force a smile for Danny's benefit.   
  
He moved past the red-head into the room and Danny softly closed the door. The boys kept their voices muted, so as not to awaken their brother.  
  
"We've got to get him out of here," Chris whispered.  
  
"I was going to get us a room somewhere else, but I thought I'd wait and see what you wanted to do. If he goes into the hospital, I am NOT staying here, that's for sure." Danny shoved his hands in his pockets.  
  
Chris agreed silently, his eyes wide. "Did you fill Mom in?"  
  
"No; I don't know what to say, or how to say it. No use freaking her out. I don't think we should tell her about this place."  
  
"You've got that right." Chris noticed the aspirin bottle on the table. "This is what he's been taking?"  
  
Danny nodded. "I brought them from home. I don't think they're helping much."  
  
"He definitely needs something stronger. Another reason to get him over to the hospital," Chris stated, frowning. Looking down at the sleeping Keith, he sighed. "He doesn't look good, Danny. Not good at all. Let's call a cab and get him over there."  
  
Danny smiled. "Why not an ambulance?"  
  
"Because he'd never forgive us."  
  
"He might not forgive us for the cab, either."  
  
Chris shrugged. "Then we don't have anything to lose, do we?" He grabbed the phone book as Danny looked nervous.   
  
"Wait. Don't you think we should at least tell him what we're doing?"  
  
"And have him shoot us down in mid-air? No, we've got to make it like he has no choice, which he doesn't." Chris started thumbing through the book.  
  
"Forget it."  
  
The words, low and bitter, came from the bed and Chris and Danny turned to see Keith roll over and look hard at them.  
  
"You said he was asleep!" Chris hissed at Danny.  
  
"He was…I thought…" Danny stammered.  
  
"I was, until you two knuckleheads barged in here." Keith pushed himself up. "You can put the book down, Chris. I'm not going to the hospital." He winced, easing his legs to the floor.  
  
"You could at least go and get a second opinion. Doctors can be wrong, you know," Chris told him, observing him closely.  
  
Keith forced a guttural laugh. "Haven't met one yet that has been. Danny, hand me the aspirin, will you?"  
  
Danny picked up the bottle, doing as he was told as Chris circled around the bed.   
  
"That can't be helping your pain."  
  
Keith looked up, his expression weary. "Sure it is. A little."  
  
Chris sat down next to him, starting an impromptu examination, peering into his eyes, feeling his neck. Putting his hand under Keith's arm, he glanced up at Danny, then back at Keith. "Come on, Keith. Let's go over to Desert Springs. Now."  
  
Keith swallowed. "Why? What's wrong?"  
  
Danny smirked. "I thought you didn't care."  
  
Chris silenced him with a daggered look. "Your node's a little swollen. Nothing to be alarmed about, but I want you checked out. Just to be safe."  
  
Keith's eyes went from Chris's face to Danny's. "I don't know…I'm…I'm just so tired of this."  
  
Chris squeezed Keith's wrist, his hand closing almost entirely around it. "I know, buddy. But we can get your meds renewed and get you out of pain for a while."  
  
Taking a deep breath, Keith nodded, relenting. "Okay."  
  
Grinning, Danny grabbed the phone book and the receiver.  



	5. Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE  
  
In the treatment room, Keith was finally getting the sleep he needed, although Danny couldn't understand how he could sleep through the myriad of tests these people were apparently doing. They'd drawn his blood at least twice, taken him out for x-rays, poked and prodded…  
  
Danny paced the room. Where the hell was Chris? This was his idea, after all. He'd spoken briefly to the doctor put in charge of Keith's case, then the two of them took off like long lost buddies or something. Danny hadn't seen anyone who knew anything for at least two hours, now.   
  
And still, Keith slept.  
  
Danny stopped pacing, looking down at his older brother, studying Keith's face as he lay there deep in much-needed slumber. What was going through his mind? How could he cope with all of this? Pain, nausea, fear. Keith's words were reiterating in his head. Danny had always admired Keith; for his prowess on the guitar, his voice, his looks. But those were just temporal things. He also admired him as a man. He was sensitive, silly, devious, gentle, romantic, generous…and most of all, for now, at least, strong.  
  
"God, Keith, if I could trade you places right now, I would," Danny whispered, falling completely out of character and brushing back the hair, which was just a little shorter than he'd grown used to a decade ago, out of Keith's eyes.  
  
As expected, Keith didn't respond, and for that, Danny was glad. He didn't want his older brother to catch him in a vulnerable moment, and besides, he needed his rest.  
  
Sighing, Danny stretched wearily. If they didn't hurry up, they were going to have two sleeping Partridges on their hands.  
  
After what seemed an eternity, the door opened and Chris entered, his face expressionless.  
  
"He's still asleep, huh?"  
  
"Yeah. So, what's up?"  
  
"I can't tell you, not without him; it's sort of an unspoken rule."  
  
Danny curled his fingers around Chris's collar. "You can tell me. It's almost like telling him." At the younger man's hesitation, Danny moved in closer. "Or would you like your face rearranged?"  
  
Chris smiled blandly, knowing his brother's tendency to bluff. "If it would make you feel better, sure."  
  
Danny stared him in the eye for a moment, then pushed him away, annoyed. "Fine. Keep me in the dark. You doctors always do that. It really ticks me off. I didn't care, anyway," he sniffed.  
  
Watching Danny's little tirade, Chris shook his head. "Why don't you go get something to eat in the cafeteria. Maybe by the time you get back, he'll be awake."  
  
Danny moped over to the door. "Maybe I will and maybe I won't." He paused. "You want anything?" he muttered.  
  
"No, thanks." At Danny's vacillation, Chris nodded. "Go ahead. He's not going anywhere for a while."  
  
The red-head yanked open the door and exited.  
  
****  
When he returned about half an hour later, Danny found Keith, dressed in his street clothes, standing by the window. Chris was sitting in the chair, and neither brother looked happy.  
  
Danny swallowed. "Did I miss something?"  
  
"You almost missed watching my back as I got the hell out of here," Keith snapped.  
  
"He's just upset because I told him they want him overnight."  
  
"To do what?" Keith whirled, his normally soft voice almost booming through the room. "Take more blood? They have fifteen gallons of it now! Run me under the microscope in case they missed something? They told me it was back, I'm out of remission. What more could they possibly want?"  
  
Danny's heart sank. For once, he didn't know what to say.  
  
Chris sighed. "They just want to be sure."  
  
At that, Keith laughed. "Well, if they're not sure, maybe they shouldn't have said anything, huh? What is this, some sort of…cruel joke?" His voice broke as he swallowed, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, but I'm not staying here. I've got some living to do, whether you…doctors….like it or not."  
  
The word 'doctors' was spat with such contempt, that Chris winced. He turned away uneasily as Keith glared at his back.   
  
"Now, you can both come if you want, but I'm going back to the motel."  
  
Chris didn't move, and Danny seemed undecided, so Keith strode to the door, pulled it open and went out, letting it close silently behind him.  
  
"Chris - " Danny said.  
  
"Go with him; make sure he's okay. I'll be along later." Chris's voice was full of sadness.  
  
Danny nodded, following Keith's lead.  
  
****  
Keith was already at the curb, trying to hail a cab when Danny caught up with him. His brother was distraught, that was obvious, and although Danny still didn't know exactly what to say to appease him, he at least wanted to be there for him.  
  
  
"Keith."  
  
"Danny, please…" Keith moaned.  
  
"What's wrong?" It was a dumb question, Danny knew.  
  
"I need to be alone right now, okay?"  
  
Danny gulped. "What…what are you going to do? Where are you gonna go?"  
  
"I don't know. I just…need to think."  
  
Danny shook his head. "I can't let you do that."  
  
Keith looked at him as if he'd lost his marbles. "What?"  
  
"Last time you took off, you came here, man. What's to stop you from running again?"  
  
Seeing the concern on his brother's face, Keith closed his eyes. "I'm not going to run, anymore. I promise."  
  
"Yeah, right."  
  
"I'll meet you back at the motel in…two hours tops." Keith told him as a taxi pulled up to the curb. As he got in, he heard Danny's cry.  
  
"You'd better not be lying to me, Keith Partridge! I will hunt you down!"  
  
Keith shut the door, giving him a wave, and Danny stared after the cab as it drove off.  
  
****  
  
Chris was throwing an uncharacteristic hissy fit, making Danny want to blend into the godawful wallpaper of the motel room.   
  
"I can't believe you let him take off like that!" He was ranting.  
  
"He's a grown man, Chris, and I am not his keeper. Besides, he said he'd be back, and I believe him!" Danny finally braved it, defending both himself and Keith.  
  
"He is out there without these, Danny. Suppose he has another attack?" Chris shook the vial of painkillers he'd gotten from the hotel pharmacy on Keith's behalf at his brother.  
  
Danny cringed. "I didn't think about that. I…I'm sorry."  
  
"Lot of good it does us now. You'd better hope he gets his tail back here before long. The medication they gave him at the hospital will be wearing off soon and he's going to be hurting." Chris slammed the pill bottle down onto the table, and Danny frowned at the frustration on the younger man's face.  
  
"You're mad at more than me, aren't you?"  
  
"What makes you say that?"  
  
"I can tell. The vein on your forehead's bulging out. Is it what Keith said about doctors?"  
  
Chris took a seat on the edge of the bed, looking very forlorn. Danny didn't press him; he had his answer. Most of it, anyway.  
  
When Chris finally did speak, his tone was low. "Ever since I diagnosed Keith's illness, I've had second thoughts about becoming a doctor. My grades have slipped and…frankly, my heart just isn't in it any more."  
  
Danny nodded. "I can see why. It had to be tough, telling your own brother he's got cancer."  
  
Chris's shoulders sagged. "And ever since then, I keep wondering what will happen the next time I have to give somebody bad news like that…I realize that with Keith's situation, it's different; I mean, he's my brother and I love him, but…I don't know. I just don't think I can cut it as a doctor, Danny." He looked up at him, his eyes sad.  
  
"You and Keith sure are a lot alike. He likes to give up too easily, too, at least on some things. I just don't know where Mom and I went wrong…" Danny shook his head, doing his best to lighten the moment.  
  
"Aw, you don't understand…"  
  
"You're right, I don't. I don't understand you and I sure don't understand Keith. I have no idea what either of you are going through. Do you want an easy answer? Do you want me to just say, sure, go ahead and quit? Well, don't look at me. I'm just here for the ride. You two are going to have to work out your own problems by yourselves."  
  
Chris made a face at him. "You're a jerk, you know that?"  
  
Danny grinned. "I know, but at least I'm not a quitter like you two are."  
  
Chris went to say something, but Danny saw movement out the filthy window. "There's a car outside."  
  
Chris rose as they heard the beep of a horn. Curious, Danny opened the door. Keith stood beside a vintage VW Van, leaning on the door, and a big grin on his face.   
  
His brothers stepped out of the room. "What's this?" Danny looked confused.  
  
"Our road to freedom," Keith answered, as if they would know what that meant.  
  
"What are you talking about? Did you buy this?" Chris asked.  
  
Nearly bursting at the seams, Keith nodded enthusiastically. "We're hitting the trail, boys. And this is our covered wagon. " He patted the van's roof.  
  
Chris and Danny exchanged looks. Danny leaned in toward his little brother. "Did he have a fever back at the hospital?" He said out of the side of his mouth.  
  
"Not…that I know of. I think it's the stress he's under," Chris answered back in the same way.  
  
Danny nodded. "He's cracked up, all right."  
  
Hearing the exchange, Keith laughed, coming forward and clapping both brothers on their shoulders. "I'm okay, I swear. I just have a little proposition!"  



	6. Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX  
  
After first hearing Keith's proposition…no, demands would be a better word for it, Danny was gung ho, as Keith knew he would be. The idea of the three of them just hitting the road, taking in all the sights and bumming for the next few days was very appealing to the middle Partridge boy. They would travel Highway 1 back up to San Pueblo and camp under the stars along the beaches and in the lower mountains (Keith had also splurged on a huge tent and down-filled sleeping bags), eat at truck stops and diners and just generally have a good time.   
  
Chris was the lone holdout, as, too, Keith knew he would be. A worrier by (and afraid OF) nature, Chris was tossing every wrench in the works he could find. Most of it centered around Keith's ability to 'rough' it in his weakened condition, but every time it was brought up, Keith and Danny managed to shoot it down.  
  
"It's only for three lousy days, you worry wart," Keith told him one last time. "I have my medication and there's always a hospital somewhere around. It's not like we're in the Australian outback. We'll be on a public highway most of the time."  
  
"I still loathe the idea," Chris shook his head.  
  
Danny and Keith looked at one another. Only Chris Partridge would "loathe" anything, let alone an idea.  
  
"It'll be fun," Danny urged. "Wait until you get out there with us. We'll have a ball."  
  
"Uh huh. I seem to remember Mom and Laurie telling me about the time you two and Mr. Kincaid followed them on a camping trip. I hear it wasn't so fun on your end."  
  
Keith rolled his eyes. "That's because we had Reuben with us, in a suit, yet, traipsing all over God knew where. He was the one who put a damper on things. Danny and I would have been okay without him."  
  
"And WITH a can opener and sleeping bags and a compass…" Chris added.  
  
Keith grinned. "I've got all that and more in the back of that van. Come on, where's your sense of adventure?"  
  
Chris paled. "I lost it ten years ago on that boy scout hike."  
  
Danny sighed. "Well, Keith, if he doesn't want to come, he doesn't want to come. He'll just have to go back to San Pueblo and face Mom and Laurie and Tracy. ALONE."  
  
Chris twitched and Keith and Danny exchanged knowing glances. They had him and he knew it.  
  
"Okay, okay, but only for three days. And I want to see the compass, the can opener AND the sleeping bags."  
  
Keith laughed. "You're on!"  
  
****  
  
Darkness loomed over Barstow, California. About forty miles from the city, Keith was driving with Danny riding shotgun; Chris dozed in the back. They would spend the night at an RV camp, then get up early and hit old Highway 58 and head West again.  
  
Keith glanced in the mirror at his sleeping younger brother. "I can't believe he wants to give up being a doctor because of me."  
  
Danny slugged back a Coke. "That's the rumor." Shifting in the seat, he leaned against the door. "He doesn't think he can cut it. Dopey, huh?"  
  
Keith shrugged. "Well, he's always been pretty sensitive. Remember when Laurie cut her hand on that bottle? He was what, all of three and he was near hysterics, which, of course, made her even more panicky. I thought Mom was gonna have two patients on her hands."  
  
Danny laughed. "She almost had three. Wasn't it you who broke the bottle in the first place?"  
  
Keith nodded. "Yeah."  
  
"I remember you hightailing it to the tree house while Mom searched high and low for you."  
  
"I wasn't stupid. Who gave me away, anyway?"  
  
Danny's face scrunched in thought. "Tracy. She kept going to the tree and trying to climb up there, and when finally Mom grabbed her away, she started bawling, "Keith, Keith!" I never saw Dad so mad that day. He was ready to tan your hide."  
  
Keith pulled a face. "I couldn't sit down for a week," he recalled.  
  
"Yeah. It was great!"   
  
They laughed briefly, until Keith's expression saddened. "Dad died six months later."  
  
Danny nodded. "Yeah," he whispered. All through their childhood, it seemed as if Dad was hardly mentioned, and now, in their adulthood, it was almost a painful subject.   
  
From the beginning of his fight with the Hodgkin's, however, Keith had thought about their father a lot. He'd wanted to get to know him better. Though he was twelve at the time, he'd felt he never knew the real Dan Partridge. He remembered him as a very loving man, who would do anything for his family. He'd gotten Keith started on the guitar, encouraging him to play, even when he would rather be out playing baseball or something. Keith quickly grew to love those sessions with his father, as Dan was a very proficient musician, too, and the two of them would duel with their instruments. Dan would start a song and Keith would only have to listen once before he had it. Then he would begin it and Dan would stop playing, watching, Keith saw, very proudly as his firstborn outplayed him in almost every respect. "Good job, Keithie," he would tell him, ruffling his hair. "Someday, you'll be famous, mark my words."  
  
Noticing Keith's melancholy, Danny slapped his arm. "Want me to drive for a while? There's a rest stop up ahead. We can switch places there."  
  
"Yeah, I guess so. I'm pretty wiped out here." Keith nodded. He knew he would have no trouble sleeping tonight, that was for sure.  
  
The rest stop was just a mile away and Keith took the exit, easing into the huge parking lot that was loaded with tractor-trailers and a few other cars. He parked the van, tiredly unbuckling his seatbelt as Danny did the same, stretching loudly as he got out.  
  
He made it to the driver side while Keith was still getting out of the van, looking very tired. They made their switch, and while Danny buckled his seatbelt, he eyed Keith as his brother pushed back into the seat behind him.  
  
"Okay?"  
  
"Oh, yeah…sure."  
  
His answer wasn't very convincing, and Danny glanced at Chris, who still slept very soundly behind them. Grinning, Danny put the key into the ignition. "Hey, wanna have a little fun?"  
  
Keith's expression brightened. "Like what?"  
  
"Just wait and see…" Danny said ominously, starting the motor and moving the van up to one of the huge semi's in the parking lot. He stopped so that the two vehicles were almost nose to nose and turned off the motor. "Follow my lead."  
  
Keith nodded as Danny gripped the wheel and let out a screech to be heard clear back in Las Vegas. "Oh my god, look out!" He yelled loudly.  
  
Chris jumped awake, sitting up. Confused and stunned, Chris's eyes caught sight of the giant truck, which he thought was coming straight at them. He screamed, his hands grabbing both his brothers' shoulders, and then, in the pandemonium, he heard peals of laughter.  
  
"Wha'….?" He gasped.  
  
"Gotcha!" Danny said gleefully as Keith laughed hysterically, checking Chris's face in the mirror.  
  
"That's NOT funny!" Chris yelped, slugging Danny's shoulder as hard as he could.   
  
Keith and Danny were still roaring as Chris stood up, squeezing between the seats, clutching their shirts hard in his fists.   
  
"You could've given me a heart attack!" Chris snarled over their hysteria.  
  
"It was funny, dude, admit it!" Danny chortled.  
  
"You're an idiot," Chris slapped his head. Looking over at Keith, he poked him hard. "And you…you're just as bad!"  
  
Keith tried the innocent ploy. "I didn't know he was gonna do it," he protested, cowering away from his brother's angry finger. "But you've got to admit, it was ingenious!"  
  
"That's it, I'm driving," Chris muttered, pushing his way up front.  
  
"No way, it's my turn!" Danny cried.  
  
Keith sighed. "You two fight it out. I'm gonna go back there." He got out, trading Chris places. The back seat looked comfortable, and he climbed in, stretching out all the way, lying back on the pillow that Chris had been using.  
  
Danny started the motor, a grin still on his face. "You should have seen your face, man."  
  
"Shut up and drive!" Chris barked, not at all amused.  
  
Keith chuckled from behind them. "It was classic. All the color drained out…I thought you were gonna puke."  
  
"I should have, right over the both of you." Chris rolled down the window.  
  
"Party pooper," Danny said, still grinning.  
  
"Yeah, well, you'll get yours. I don't know how or when, but you will get yours," Chris told him ominously.  
  
Danny laughed. "I'm shaking in my boots. How about you, Keith?"  
  
"Terrified," Keith answered, and Chris could hear the mirth in his voice.   
  
Grumpily, Chris slumped against the van door as his brothers did lousy jobs of concealing their merriment.   



	7. Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN  
  
After a quick supper at a local diner, the boys finally hit the sleeping bags around midnight. Too tired to put up the tent, they crashed in and around the van. Keith was told to sleep inside while Danny and a sullen Chris slept outside nearby, warm enough in the down bags for a chilly March night.  
  
Morning brought the warmth of the sun again and Danny stirred to find Chris already awake and neatly folding his sleeping bag.   
  
"You talking to me, yet?" Danny sat up.  
  
"I haven't decided. I'll let you know." Chris muttered.  
  
Danny rolled his eyes. "Look, I didn't mean to make you mad. It was just a joke."  
  
Chris didn't respond; he was busy tying the bag down, and Danny squirmed out of his. The morning chill hadn't quite worn off yet, and he shivered.  
  
"How's Keith?"  
  
"I don't know. I just got up."  
  
Danny glanced toward the van. Keith had protested their insistence in his sleeping in the back seat, and he wouldn't have been surprised if they found him out there with them. "I'm gonna get my jacket. Want yours?"  
  
"Sure." Came Chris's curt answer.  
  
Danny shook his head. This was going to be one long drive north if Chris kept up THAT attitude. He went to the van and opened the back door. Keith wasn't there, and though that didn't surprise him, it did worry him just a bit.  
  
"He's gone."  
  
Chris looked up. "What?"  
  
"He's not here."  
  
Dropping his rolled bag, Chris peered over Danny's shoulder, then dashed around to the other side of the van. Danny followed, half-expecting to see Keith in his sleeping bag in deep slumber, but he was immediately disappointed.  
  
"Where could he have gone?" Chris's face reflected concern.  
  
"Maybe he had to pee, I don't know." Danny shrugged, just as confused as his brother.  
  
Chris opened the door and looked around   
at the messy insides. Keith's painkillers were lying on the seat, and the blanket he'd used was haphazardly tossed over the back of it. He swallowed.  
  
"Think we should go looking for him?" He looked back at Danny.  
  
"No, no sense in us all getting lost and missing each other. Let's just wait. He could be taking a walk."  
  
"Okay, but let's not wait too long."  
  
Danny patted his shoulder.  
  
****  
  
Keith shivered in his suede jacket. Amazed to find frost in the Mohave Desert, he looked around him, watching it glisten in the early morning sun. The boys should be up by now, probably worrying over his whereabouts AND talking to one another again. The final forty miles to Barstow had been painfully silent and Keith knew that he had to get them talking to one another once again, so he'd planned this little disappearance. He knew that in their concern for him, they would end up buddies again, like before.   
  
He looked at his watch. He'd officially been 'gone' for half an hour. That would worry them just enough to begin talking again. He rested for a minute on a boulder, feeling the sun's warmth as it slowly penetrated the jacket. It was a welcome feeling. All he needed, now, was to catch a cold.  
He sat there, waiting until he was sufficiently warmed, then decided to start back. Pushing up off the boulder, he began the short hike back to the van.  
  
  
Sitting on his bedroll, Danny watched Chris pace. The younger boy was almost frantic, but trying to suppress it.  
  
"He's okay, Chris."  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
"I just do. Calm down. If he's not back here in…ten minutes, I'll go looking for him. Now sit down; all this pacing's making me dizzy."  
  
Chris glared at his brother. "He could be in pain, Danny. Don't you care at all?"  
  
"Yes, I care! But you're too focused on the negative side…he could be…out fishing or something."  
  
Chris gaped at him. "Fishing. Keith," he said.  
  
"Why not? He took me fishing once. I remember, because we skipped school." He grinned. "He'd just read Huck Finn or something and I guess he wanted to try some of the adventures."  
  
Chris's brow furrowed deeper. "I never knew that."  
  
"That's because you were too young. It was before we started the band, when Mom was working at the bank."  
  
The young doctor-drummer leaned against the van, looking interested, now and had, thankfully, stopped pacing. "Really? What happened?"  
  
Danny chuckled. "I fell in the river and Keith had to save me. We lost our poles and the two fish we DID catch."  
  
Chris smiled. "You actually caught something?"  
  
"Besides a cold, you mean? Yeah, a couple of little trout, but they ended up back in the water where they belonged. It was great. I can still see Keith's face when he got me to shore. He was pretty worried. He gave me his jacket to keep warm. It smelled like fish, I smelled like fish…I tasted river water for a week."  
  
Chris laughed, shaking his head. Looking up, he happened to catch a glimpse of Keith in the distance, walking towards them. "Here comes Keith!"  
  
Danny jumped to his feet. "Think he's okay?"  
  
"He'd better be!" He had to fight to keep from running to greet his brother. Danny was right behind him.  
  
"Hi, guys," Keith smiled.  
  
"Where the HELL have you been?" Chris exploded.  
  
A little surprised at the normally mild-mannered Chris's reaction, Keith shrugged. "Went for a walk. Why?"  
  
Knowing that the younger boy was out of expletives, Danny put a calming hand on Chris's shoulder, speaking gently to Keith. "We were…a little worried, that's all. You okay?"  
  
"Couldn't be better. What do you say we hit the next diner for some breakfast and get on the road?" Keith took his hands out of his pockets, tossing the van keys to Chris. "Your turn to drive, I believe." And with that, he moved to the vehicle, leaving two very relieved boys in his wake.  
  
"I told you. We're never gonna have any fun unless you lighten up!" Danny said to Chris from behind him.  
  
"ONE of us has to have a sensible head on his shoulders, and, seeing as you couldn't even SPELL sensible, I guess that leaves me," Chris quipped back, and Keith smiled. At least they were talking again. He climbed into the back seat.  
  
****  
The Tehachapi Mountains imposed on their views as Chris drove the van due West. Why did he have the sinking feeling that this would be their next stop? He wanted to gun the motor and get around them as fast as he could, but Danny had to open his mouth  
.  
"Anybody in the mood for a hike?"  
  
In the back seat, Keith had his guitar in his lap, strumming it softly. He stopped playing and looked up as Chris's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel.  
  
"A hike?"  
  
Danny swiveled in his seat. "Yeah. We   
could walk our breakfasts off."  
  
"How long of a hike?" Chris wanted to know.  
  
Danny shrugged. "I dunno. A couple of miles. How about it?"  
  
"Sure, why not?" Keith answered.  
  
"Chris?"  
  
"Well…"  
  
"Oh, come on, don't be a stick in the mud," Keith prodded. "It's only two miles. You've done that on a round at the hospital!"  
  
Chris's jaw tightened. "I know Danny and I can make it, I was just worried about you."  
  
"Well, don't be, okay? Forget you're a doctor for once and just be my brother again!"  
  
Keith's words, exasperated though they were, surprised him. Chris glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the look on his older brother's face. He smiled. "Okay, then, if that's the way you want it."  
  
Keith grinned back at him, looking relieved as Danny turned back around to face the front.   
  
It wasn't long before they found a hiking trail and parked the van just below it. While Danny searched for the compass, Keith stood looking at their surroundings. The worn, dirt trail looked rather steep as it wound upwards, finally disappearing into the woods beyond.  
  
"Found the compass. Where's Chris?" Danny stood beside him, now.  
  
"He said something about finding some walking sticks," Keith answered, his eyes still on the trail before them.  
  
Danny followed his gaze. "Looks pretty steep, huh?"  
  
Keith nodded. "Yeah, it does."  
  
"Gonna be okay?"  
  
"Oh, yeah, sure," Keith nodded again, trying to sound carefree. He smiled at Danny's look. "We'll soon find out, huh?"  
  
Danny gave his shoulder a squeeze. Keith had always been fairly active. On stage, he could run circles around the others in his band; guys 10 years younger! It was how he stayed so thin. Even back when the Family was touring, Danny noticed how Keith would manage to burn up a lot of energy. It worried Mom. She was always on him to eat, make sure he got plenty of sleep. But Keith was thin by nature, unlike Danny, who was on the stocky side. Sometimes, he, too, worried about his brother's slender frame. To Danny, Keith was always a little TOO slight. And now, with the cancer taking its toll on him, Keith was almost delicate, breakable, and Danny wanted nothing but to watch out for him. "I'm just worried about you, bro."  
  
Keith waved him off as Chris appeared with three long, thick tree branches that he'd bared down into walking sticks. "Here, these will do," he said, handing them out.  
  
"I feel like Mary, looking for my lamb," Danny muttered, eyeing the five foot branch in his hand.  
  
Keith laughed as Chris rolled his eyes. "Did you get the compass?"  
  
"Right here in my pocket."  
  
"Okay, then, let's go," Chris started off, and his brothers followed suit.  
  
  
The trail was, indeed, steep, and all three boys were puffing as they reached the pinnacle, where the path leveled out and went deeper into the trees. Both Chris and Danny kept their eyes on their older brother as he stopped at the level, leaning on his stick, trying to appear non-chalant.  
  
"My leg muscles are wondering what the rest of me is doing," Danny winced, bending down to rub his calf.  
  
"Yeah, you don't use 'em much, they'll get you," Chris nodded, watching Keith as he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, still holding the stick. "How you doin', buddy?"  
  
"Okay," Keith flashed a weak smile.  
  
"Well, I don't know about you two, but I'm gonna take a breather," Danny limped over to an overturned log and whipped out his canteen.  
  
"Good idea. We can get our second wind," Chris said, looking at Keith and following Danny's lead.  
  
"Okay, okay, I get you. You want me to rest, I'll rest," Keith eased down onto the log, too.   
  
They drank from the canteens that Chris had insisted they tie to their belts, and Keith squinted as he looked upward, focusing on the cloudless sky above them. It was a rich, azure blue with the sun peering out from behind the mountain peak just to the east of them. It was peaceful, calm and serene, and Keith would have been happy just to sit there forever, but Danny's voice broke the tranquility.  
  
"Enough rest! Let's go!"  
  
Chris scowled at him. "Who says we're rested?"  
  
"That snake at the end of the log says!"  
  
Keith and Chris whirled to see the fat snake as it slithered lazily toward them. All three boys got up quickly, their hearts pounding as one.  
  
"What do we do?" Keith breathed.  
  
"Back up slowly, then run like hell!" Danny bellowed, doing just that.  
  
Nearest the snake, Chris trembled as he backed up. Feeling Keith right behind him, he kept stepping back, pushing gently on him until they both turned and sprinted off, trying to catch up to Danny, who by now, was just a distant memory.  
  
They found him a good quarter mile down the trail, hands on knees and gulping in bucketfuls of air from his run. Out of breath themselves, Keith and Chris staggered up to him, moaning and coughing.  
  
"Was…was that a rattler?" Chris gulped.  
  
"I didn't hear a rattle…probably some harmless snake. I'm sure not gonna go back there and check!" Keith gasped.  
  
Danny laughed. "I'm sure glad the girls and Mom weren't here to see that. We weren't exactly brave back there!"  
  
"Yeah, well, no one has to tell them, DO THEY?" Chris asked.  
  
"Not me," Keith shook his head.   
  
"Me, either!"  
  
Keith's chest heaved. "Let's just be grateful it wasn't another skunk!"  
  
Chris's face split into a grin. "Oh, yeah, right. I remember that! You know, tomato juice still makes me break out!"  
  
"Everything makes you break out," Danny slapped him, playfully.  
  
Chris pulled a face at him as Keith took another quick drink from his canteen.   
  
"So," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Do we go on, or are we gonna let one little snake scare us from finishing what we started?"  
  
Chris shrugged. "I'm game if you are."  
  
Danny nodded. "I'm in."  
  
Keith grinned. "Okay, then. After you." He made a sweeping motion with his hand.  
  
When it was obvious that the exertion was getting to be too much for Keith, Chris and Danny decided to head back. Not that Keith protested; he was just grateful they were letting him out of it gracefully.  
  
All three boys were starving by the time they reached the log where the snake had appeared, and after a quick check of the area, Danny waved his brothers over. "All's clear. Let's break out the food."  
  
Keith and Chris looked at one another. "I…think it's in the van," Chris said sheepishly.  
  
"Not funny," Danny shook his head, holding his hand out. "Now fork it over."  
  
"I'm serious, Danny. It's in the van." Chris took a seat on the log next to Keith.  
  
Danny moaned, peering down toward the van, a good half mile below them. "Oh, great. Well, if you think I'm going back down there to get it and bring it back, you're insane."  
  
"We'll just wait and eat it down there; not a problem." Keith tried to look cheerful. "I shouldn't take my painkiller without food, but…I'll be okay."  
  
Danny looked nervous. "You…need a painkiller?"  
  
Keith scrunched up his handsome face. "Yeah…my back's a little achy, but I think I can make it down there all right."  
  
Danny studied his brother's expression, trying to fathom just how long it would take for him to go down, get the food and climb back up all the way with it. He also tried to gauge Keith's pain level. If it was serious, he knew his brother wouldn't make it very far without it being too difficult to walk.  
  
Chris put a hand on Keith's shoulder. "I don't think you should try it, Keith. Walking too far with your back hurting is dangerous. You could end up back in the hospital." He looked at Danny. "You'd better go get the food. Either that, or we'll have to carry him down."  
  
"How come you don't go get it?"  
  
"This hike was your idea, remember?"  
  
"Yeah, well, who forgot the stupid food?"  
  
"Guys, guys…time out! Let's just all go down. It's not hurting that bad." Keith, in the middle of their feud, raised his hands.  
  
Danny glared at his younger brother. "I'll go get the food," he said between his teeth.  
  
"No! We'll all go." Keith looked at Chris. "It's only a little ache. If it gets too bad, I can always just take the damn pill."  
  
"It'll make you sick," Chris warned.  
  
Keith sighed. "At this point, I don't care. I'm hungry, tired, and dirty. I just want to eat, get to the next truck stop for a shower and catch a few winks. Now, come on." He pushed up off the log and began leading them back down the mountain.  



	8. Chapter Eight

CHAPTER EIGHT  
  
Danny and Chris were worried. Keith had made it to the van all right, had eaten and taken the painkiller, but they could tell that this little adventure was taking its toll on their older brother. He had virtually collapsed in the back seat of the van, falling asleep quickly, as Danny took the wheel and brought them back onto the main highway, still headed Northwest.  
  
"I don't think we should try camping out tonight." After studying Keith's breathing pattern and noting the level of exhaustion he was suffering, Chris sounded adamant.  
  
Danny gave a glance into the backseat. "I don't think so, either. I think it's time we got him home as fast as we can. Let's get a comfy motel room for the night and then we can take turns in the morning driving into San Pueblo."  
  
Chris nodded, ultimately relieved to find Danny on his side for once.   
  
There was silence for a while, then Chris spoke, his voice shaky. "It's so hard to see him like this."  
  
"Yeah," Danny agreed softly. "I can't remember the last time I saw him…healthy, really. Even before you diagnosed the cancer, when he came home for Tracy's wedding, I knew he wasn't feeling so great."  
  
"He'd probably had the symptoms for a while. We were just lucky we caught it early."  
  
Danny swallowed hard, clutching the wheel. "Chris, what does his coming out of the remission mean? IS he gonna die?"  
  
Chris looked over at Danny. "No. It just means he's had a little setback. With the right treatment, he can go back in. But it's got to be soon, before the cancer goes into Stage two. The higher the stage, the lower the chances of his winning this."  
  
Danny nodded, Chris's words buzzing in his head. Unsuccessfully fighting tears, Danny stared at Keith's sleeping form there in the backseat, and swore at him under his breath.  
  
****  
  
To Chris and Danny's relief, Keith didn't argue with them over the night's accommodations, and they booked a two-bedroom suite in a hotel near Point Lobos. Keith was given one bedroom while Danny and Chris took the other, and all three boys had a very restful night's sleep.  
  
It was the morning that brought bad news. First, Danny discovered a flat tire on the van when he went to load up for their departure. Shaking his head, he went back into the hotel, meeting Chris in the hallway.   
  
"We've got a flat," Danny grumbled.   
  
"Oh, fine. Well, let's go change it while Keith's in the shower. I don't want him to think he needs to help," Chris put his bag back in the room and followed Danny back outside.  
  
In the bathroom, Keith was halfway dressed. Pain wracked him; probably the aftermath of the hike, yesterday, but he didn't want Chris and Danny to worry. It was bad enough they were going to be fussing over him once he got home. He'd wanted so badly for this to be a bonding time between the three of them, and up until now, it had been. No sense ruining it. He would have to figure out a way to hide his pain from his brothers. With a groan, he moved into the main room of the suite.  
  
Neither boy was there, and for that, Keith was grateful. Wincing, he managed to put on his shirt, then sank down into a chair to put his socks and shoes on. A chill gripped him and he found himself shaking almost uncontrollably. Feeling miserable, he slipped into his jacket to ward off the chill, and began to pace the room, trying to walk off the pain flaring in what seemed to be every bone. My god, he thought…could he be dying?  
  
Biting back a sob, he kept pacing, though his knees were weak and he still trembled like a leaf. He heard the key in the lock and he quickly wiped at his eyes, trying to regain his composure.  
  
Chris and Danny entered, looking, for all the world like they'd just been in the grease pit of the Indy 500.  
  
"What happened?" Keith swallowed, having stopped pacing.  
  
"Flat tire," Danny answered as Chris moved past him toward the bathroom, to Keith's relief. Danny, he could fool. Chris, on the other hand…Or could he? Danny eyed him. "Cold?"  
  
"Yeah, a little. What do you guys want to do for breakfast?"   
  
Chris answered from the bathroom. "Let's just grab something and hit the road. We should make San Pueblo sometime late this afternoon."  
  
Keith nodded. As much as he wanted to continue this adventure with his brothers, he almost couldn't wait to get home.  
  
Danny eyed him again with suspicion. "Aren't you going to argue?"  
  
Keith looked away. "No. I've had my fun. Time to face reality again," he sank back down into the chair as Chris exited the bathroom, freshly scrubbed.  
  
The two younger men exchanged glances as Keith fought tears, huddling in his jacket. A somber Danny cursed softly and went into the bathroom as Chris moved to his older brother, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You okay, bud?"  
  
Keith nodded, swiping at his nose, and Chris handed him a Kleenex, rubbing his shoulder.  
  
****  
  
Chris and Danny waited patiently, leaning on the van as the seagulls flew overhead. Keith had asked that they stop in this secluded beach cove along Highway 1, and they obliged with some trepidation, worrying over their brother's emotional state. As soon as they'd parked, he had almost physically pushed them away, begging to be alone, and so they stayed behind, trying to keep an eye on him as he wandered along the water's edge, deep in thought. He was in pain, though he'd tried not to let on; but Chris and Danny knew the signs by now, and it was killing them to watch him fight it.  
With heavy hearts, they watched him walk slowly along; not quite limping, but close. His head was down, and both hands were stuffed into his jacket pockets. He looked so forlorn that it made Chris's stomach tighten.   
  
Before long, Keith stopped walking and wrapped his arms around his stomach, his legs folding beneath him. He sank to the sand, on all fours, now, and Chris leaped forward. "Oh, god!"  
  
He took off running towards him, Danny right on his heels, their hearts racing.  
  
Keith was crying out, almost dry heaving by the time they reached him and Chris went to his own knees, grabbing his brother while Danny reached for him, too.  
  
"It's okay, Keith, it's okay," Chris pulled him towards him as Keith sobbed, folding over into his arms.  
  
Danny knelt, too, rubbing his shoulder, his heart still pounding wildly.  
  
"Oh, god…" Keith moaned, holding his stomach and tensing in Chris's arms, as the younger man tried to soothe him.  
  
"Keep breathing deep…come on, you're okay…" Chris murmured, catching Danny's eye.  
  
Keith choked and began to shake, his sobs still loud, but subsiding, and Danny gripped the back of Keith's jacket, his strong fingers not wanting to ever let go.  
  
"Maybe we should get him to a hospital," Danny swallowed.  
  
Chris shook his head as Keith clung to him. "I think he just wants to go home."  
  
As their brother choked again, Danny rubbed his back. "Take it easy, buddy…we're here; we're right here…" For some reason, this was scaring the hell out of him!  
  
The pain and fear slowly lost their grip on him, and Keith moaned, exhausted from the fight, finally relaxing a little in Chris's arms.  
  
"Think you can make it back to the van, huh, pal?" Chris asked. "We'll be right here beside you…come on." He and Danny slowly, carefully brought Keith upright, both of them holding on to him. They got their shoulders underneath his arms and the three of them started slowly back for the van.  
  
****  
  
The late afternoon sun strobed off the windshield and, in the driver's seat, Chris pulled down the visor. Danny rode beside him, once in a while turning to check on Keith who lay in the back seat. The incident at the cove had worn him out, and he'd been sleeping most of the way; through Santa Barbara and now into San Jose, where they would catch Interstate 80 and head east to San Pueblo.  
  
"How's he doing?" Chris asked, changing lanes.  
  
"Still asleep."  
  
"Good."  
  
"It's two o'clock. What time will we hit home?"  
  
"Another hour or so."  
  
Behind them, Keith moaned and Chris looked anxiously in the mirror as Danny whipped around.  
  
Keith pushed himself up, his hair mussed, eyes bleary, and Danny almost smiled. Perfect-looking, handsome Keith Partridge looked like a regular Joe. It was about time.  
  
"Where are we?" Keith mumbled.  
  
"Just leaving San Jose. How you feel, bud?" Chris asked him via the mirror.  
  
"I need a drink."   
  
"There's some Cokes in the cooler," Danny told him.  
  
Keith shook his head, running his fingers through his hair, trying in vain to smooth it. "I want something stronger."  
  
Chris frowned. "You can't have alcohol, Keith. It'll enhance your symptoms."  
  
Keith expelled a guttural laugh. "Like it matters." He leaned back in the seat, wincing.  
  
Danny looked over at Chris. "I think we could all use a little hair of the dog. We could stop at Johnny's Tavern. It's right off the freeway exit to San Pueblo."  
  
Looking at Keith's disheveled image in the mirror, Chris swallowed. "Mom'll kill us."  
  
"She's gonna kill us, anyway. We might as well make it worthwhile."  
Keith muttered.   
  
"Yeah, and do we really want to face Laurie and Tracy's wrath, sober?" Danny added. "I've already had that pleasure."  
  
Chris winced. "I forgot about them. But, if we all drink, who's gonna drive home?"  
  
"We won't get THAT drunk. A couple of drinks, just for the road. How about it?" Danny urged, then added, "Keith's hurtin', man, look at him."  
  
Chris studied his brother's face, then, after a minute, he said, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but, okay, let's do it."  
  
Keith smiled, pushing his head back into the seat behind him.   
  
****  
Shirley Partridge was angry. Out and out furious. Three days; THREE DAYS and not a word from either Danny nor Keith, and Chris was still not answering, though his poor roommate, Eddie, was quickly learning of her ire. The agony of waiting, worrying was boiling up inside her to the point where she didn't know what she was to do. That's when Reuben Kincaid had stepped in, right in the nick of time, with impeccable timing, as always.  
  
He'd been spending the night, in Keith's room, so as not to raise any undue questions. Not that the girls or Ken weren't pre-occupied with the ongoing saga of their missing brothers. Besides, he and Shirley had only dated on and off; they were like old buddies. Good, comfortable friends, like a worn pair of jeans. They knew each other inside and out, though marriage had crossed their minds, but, darn it, they'd never really gotten around to it! For one thing, Reuben wasn't sure how the kids would react. He already was like a father to them, he knew that, but would they really accept him officially? Just the thought of being anyone's Dad gave him the jitters. Especially Danny. Twenty years ago, that thought would have scared him right off the marriage wagon, but now, now that the red-headed wiseacre wasn't around…  
  
"I think it's time we brought the police in on this," Shirley was saying, as she, Tracy, Ken, Laurie and Reuben gathered in the living room.  
  
"The police? Shirley, you know what they'll say when you tell them how old these kids are? They'll think you're off your rocker!" Reuben cried.  
  
"Yes, but Reuben, Keith's a celebrity! We could have everyone from here to Vegas looking for him. We could find him in no time, that way!" Laurie's eyes blazed at him from across the room.  
  
"Look, I'm sure Danny found Keith, and they're probably just goofing around a little before they come home." Reuben tried to sound reassuring.  
  
"I want to know what's so hard about picking up a telephone! If those boys -" Shirley was almost shouting, now, and before she could finish her sentence, the front door opened and three very liquored boys entered. Their faces were dirty, their clothes were rumpled, but to Shirley, it was a sight for sore eyes.  
  
"Danny! Chris! Keith!" she wailed, bolting toward them with the rest of the family on her heels.  
  
"Hi, Mom," Keith smiled tiredly as she gathered them for a hug.  
  
"Where in the HELL have you been?" Reuben's voice thundered through the room, piercing the buzzing in the boys' heads and even making Tracy, Ken, Laurie and Shirley wince.  
  
"Oh, hi, Reuben. What brings you here?" Danny all but giggled.  
  
"What brings me here…?" Reuben huffed, as Laurie interrupted.  
  
"You're drunk! All of you!"  
  
Chris nodded. "That's right, we are. All of us. Me, Keith and Danny. All drunk." He sounded proud.  
  
Shirley closed her eyes. "Never mind…I'm just glad you're all home!  
Now, get your behinds into the kitchen and get some coffee down you, so I can yell at you for worrying us like this!"  
  
"Were you worried, Mom?" Keith blinked at her.  
  
"Only out of my mind! Now, go!"  
  
"Don't; it's a trap!" Danny grabbed Keith's arm.  
  
"You're darned right it is!" Shirley was getting angrier by the second as she pushed Keith and Danny forward, then reached back, pulling Chris along. She got them into the kitchen and began to loudly make the coffee as her sons sank down into the chairs at the table, wincing with every sound she made.   
  
"I think Mom's mad," Chris whispered.  
  
Shirley whirled as her daughters, Ken and Reuben entered, standing in the doorway between the kitchen and living room to watch the tirade.   
  
"Mad, me? Why would I be mad, Chris? I don't hear from any of you in three days, not a peep, and you decide to come traipsing in here, soused to the gills…what makes you think I'm mad?!" She snarled, as her sons exchanged somber looks. She slammed the coffee pot onto the stove.  
  
"Mom, please…my head," Keith muttered.  
  
"And YOU, young man; taking off on all of us like that, no word of where you're going! How DARE you do that to us?! You knew you could come home; you didn't have to stay, but dammit, Keith, we're here for you, you know that!"  
  
At that, she burst into tears, turning away from them, as Keith frowned, getting up and going to her. "I'm sorry, Mom…" he said gently, pulling him to her, letting her cry into his collarbone. "I wanted to sort things out." He swallowed, glancing over at his family and Reuben. "I still don't know what I'm gonna do…but at least I know I have you guys."  
  
Laurie and Tracy came forward, hugging him, too as Chris and Danny remained at the table, looking remorseful.  



	9. Chapter Nine

CHAPTER NINE  
  
In his old room, Keith lay with his back to the door, on his left side, not quite sleeping, but drifting in and out. Pain blocked most of the sleep, but he was way too tired to get up and get a painkiller, so he suffered. The rest of his sleep was interrupted by various family members, peering in on him. Not that he could see them do it, but he heard the door open, pause and close again several times during the morning. Why didn't they just leave him alone? He craved rest; needed it so very badly, and their concern, curiosity, whatever it was that drew them to his door wasn't helping the cause.  
  
As he closed his eyes, shuddering against another wave of pain that surged over him, he heard the door open again and he sat up, lashing out at the intruder, who this time turned out to be Laurie.  
  
"What? What do you want?" he cried, suddenly wishing he hadn't moved so fast.  
  
"Nothing, I…" Laurie was startled by this attack. "I was just checking on you."  
  
Furious and frustrated, Keith clenched his fists. "I'm fine! Just leave me alone, okay? And tell everybody else to knock it off, too!"  
  
Laurie nodded almost meekly. "Okay, sorry…"   
  
She backed out of the room and he sat there, his chest heaving from the pain his angered move had caused. He pressed back into the headboard behind him, his eyes spilling a mixture of painful and angry tears. He didn't want to drive them away, but they didn't know what he was going through. They were healthy; they couldn't understand how bad the pain was, didn't know what it was like to face a slow and painful death.  
  
He slid carefully out of the bed and reached over, locking the door. That would keep them out for a while; it would let them know he was serious. Pain rushed him and he fell against the door, sliding down to the carpet, where he huddled, unable to move for the moment and unwilling to cry out.   
  
  
Everyone was gathered in the dining room, eating the brunch Shirley had prepared. Everyone but Keith, and Laurie, who came in looking flustered. "Somebody needs to talk to Keith!" she almost growled.  
  
"Why? Where is he, anyway?" Shirley looked worried.  
  
"He practically threw me out of his room. All I did was peek in on him and he hit the roof, telling me he was okay, and wanting everyone to leave him alone!" She pulled out a chair.  
  
"We have to be patient with him, Laurie. He's got a lot on his mind right now. Things will settle for him soon and he'll get back to being the big brother we used to know," Chris told her. He and Danny had decided not to tell the women the whole story; how Keith was refusing any treatments, and just how sick he really was, mainly because Chris couldn't be certain himself. He only hoped that his brother would come to his senses and fight his disease.  
  
"That's NOT a plus," Danny kidded.  
  
Shirley sighed, taking her place at the table. "I suppose he won't be coming down to eat, will he?"  
  
Laurie snorted. "Not after that outburst. It's probably better for all of us if he just stays in his little room."  
  
Shirley shook her head sadly.  
  
****  
Keith's door was locked; not really surprising, but it worried Shirley as she stood in the hallway with a tray of food from the brunch for him. She was almost afraid to knock. "Keith?" she called, gently tapping on the door  
.  
There was no answer; what if he was asleep? Worse yet, what if he was in pain and couldn't GET to the door to open it. She swallowed back her worry, and tried again, this time wriggling the doorknob. "Keith, please open the door. I've brought you some food."  
  
"I'm not hungry…" His answer was muted and she thought she detected some pain.  
  
"Honey, please, you have to eat."  
  
"Please, Mom, I don't want to be   
bothered."  
  
Tears welled in her eyes as she pushed her forehead into the door, trying to pick up any clues as to his physical being. "Keith, are you in pain?"  
  
"No! Please, just…go away. I'm all right!"  
  
She nodded, setting the tray on the floor. "I'll leave this here for you. Please eat, honey. You need to keep your strength up."  
  
Complete silence now emanated through the closed door and Shirley stood there for a moment, her hand on the doorknob, then she moved away, her heart aching.  
  
****  
The house was dark when Keith came in the back door, carrying a twelve-pack of beer, and he quietly shut the door behind him, pocketing his keys and heading for the stairs. He'd been craving alcohol lately, and since he couldn't exactly ask someone to get it for him, he'd turned to sneaking out at night for it. He felt a bit foolish, as if he were fourteen again and trying beer for the first time. Gordy, Skizzy and he had talked Gordy's older brother, Scott, into buying them a six pack and the three of them headed over to an empty field to drink it. They'd barely gotten a half a can each down them before they were sick, and Keith remembered very vividly throwing up into a junk pile of old metal and garden hoses. He was sick for hours after that, but didn't dare go home. He swore off the beer that day, not touching it again until he was of legal age, and even then he was hesitant about having one. Now, however, he needed it to take the edge off the pain, although the alcohol itself was worsening his symptoms. It was a catch-22; never ending, just like the pain was, now.  
  
He was almost to his room when someone stepped out into the hallway. "Keith?" It was Danny.  
  
Keith entered his darkened room, tossing the case onto his bed, nearly moaning out loud as he heard Danny follow him in. He put his hand over the light switch. "Go to bed, Danny."  
  
"Are you okay, man?"  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
"Can we turn on a light, here?"  
  
"No. Just get the hell out of here, okay?"  
  
"Not before I see that you're all right," Danny pushed Keith's hand away from the switch, and the light came on.  
  
Keith slumped down onto the bed, looking very ragged and disheveled. His hair was mussed, his eyes were sunken and his face was hollow and unshaven. Danny swallowed.  
  
"My god, Keith, you look terrible!"  
  
Keith closed his eyes. "Get…out of here." He was seething, but Danny wasn't moved.  
  
"You've got to go to the doctor, man!"  
  
"Dammit, I said get out! I don't need you worrying over me! I don't need anybody!" He was trying to keep his voice down, but it wasn't easy.  
  
Danny looked at the beer case. "No, you   
just need that," he said, nodding towards it. "Chris said you shouldn't be drinking."  
  
"I don't care what Chris said!" Keith snapped.  
  
"Want me to get him? I'll wake him up and you can tell him that yourself!" Danny shot back, reaching for the doorknob.  
  
Keith leaped off the bed, grabbing Danny by the shirtfront and pushing his face into the red-head's. Danny was slightly bigger and stronger than Keith, but the anger coursing through him put Keith in control. "Leave him out of this! I know what I'm doing! If everybody would just leave me alone, I'll get through this! I don't need you worrying about me, and I sure as hell don't need anybody to tell me what's good or bad for me!"  
  
"Then you should have stayed in Vegas, buddy, because we do worry about you, like it or not!" Danny glared right back at him.  
  
Keith let go of Danny's shirt, pushing him away. There was silence for a while, then, his back to his brother, Keith hung his head. "Of all the people in this family, I thought you would be my ally. Chris is so busy playing doctor that he's on a whole other plane, and the girls, well…" he laughed emptily.   
  
Danny put a hand on his shoulder. "I AM your ally, Keith. I just don't like seeing you like this. It scares me, man. I don't know what to do for you. What do you want me to do, Keith?"  
  
Keith sighed heavily. "Just be there for me when I get this all together, 'cause, Danny, I am gonna need you."  
  
Danny pulled him forward and they hugged long and hard.  
  
****   
Keith stared at his guitar from across the room as if it were a foreign object or something. The four beers he'd consumed this morning were working their magic on his brain, clouding his thoughts and giving him a strange mix of euphoria and depression.  
  
Danny knocked on the door in the code they'd picked out and Keith could barely make it to his feet to let him in.  
  
"Did you get it?" Keith said, his voice sounding distant in his own ears.  
  
"Yeah, I got it." Danny produced a whiskey bottle from beneath his jacket. "Are you sure you want this? Let me look at you." He put his hand on Keith's forehead, tilting his head back as Keith shook him off, snatching the bottle from his brother's hand.  
  
"I'm okay. Or I will be once I get this down."  
  
Danny folded his arms, staring at him. "You're not taking your medication with the booze, are you?"  
  
Keith was prying the lid off the bottle. "No. I haven't even seen the painkillers…" He completed his task and took a long drink from the bottle.  
  
"Hey, not so much…save some for later. You're comin' to Mom's birthday supper, aren't you?" Danny took the whiskey from him and sat it on the nightstand.  
  
Keith looked up. "Is that tonight?"  
  
"Yeah." At the look on his brother's face, Danny smiled. "Don't worry, Chris and I bought her a really cool sweater and put your name on the card with ours."  
  
Keith winced. His mother's birthday, and here he was…in this condition. "Oh, god, Danny, I don't know…"  
  
"You've got to; it's Mom. She'll get suspicious if you don't come. Nobody's seen you since we got home, and I think it'll make her day." Danny leaned in closer. "I've been covering your butt for almost a week, now. I think it's time you made an appearance."  
  
Keith swallowed. Danny was right; he'd been in hiding for too long. Not even Chris, the medical expert, had bothered him much, just enough to make sure he was still alive, he supposed. But Danny had been loyal; he hadn't told anyone about Keith's drinking, although he alluded to Keith that Chris himself had been downing a few beers without their mother's or sisters' knowledge, too. Keith knew why the young doctor-to-be was drinking. Looked like both of them had a big problem, and Danny was the only one who knew about it.  
  
"I'll see how I feel." Keith imagined that he wouldn't be feeling very well, but that non-committal answer was enough to satisfy Danny.  
  
He grinned. "Cool. Make sure you get cleaned up, inside and out. Try not to drink any more booze today, okay? You come in on your ear and they'll get you."  
  
With a glance at the whiskey bottle nearby, Keith nodded wearily.  



	10. Chapter Ten

CHAPTER TEN  
  
The dining room table was beautiful; lace tablecloth, the fine china, gold plated silverware and a huge bouquet of flowers right in the center. Shirley, seated in the guest of honor's seat at the head of the table, looked around at her brood, most of whom were here, and couldn't help but feel terribly sad on what should be a happy day in her life. She had smiled through the traditional "Happy Birthday" song, sung purposefully off key, and even managed a giggle or two at the kids' expressions when Laurie gathered them for the family photo, but one very precious thing was missing. Keith hadn't bothered to show; something that not only hurt her feelings, but worried her as well.  
She knew he was going through a hard time right now, but, darn it all, it was her birthday! He could have at least sent a card!  
  
Laurie could see the hurt in her mother's eyes, and it was all she could do not to march up the stairs and drag her prodigal brother down there. She realized that her brothers and sister were thinking the same thing, just by reading their faces as the gifts were brought out.  
  
Then, from the doorway, came a soft voice. "What've I missed?"  
  
Everyone whirled, staring in the direction of the voice. Keith stood there, almost looking like his old self, but not quite. His self-imposed solitary confinement was quite evident in his mannerism, his appearance, his eyes.  
  
Tears sprang to Shirley's eyes as she rose from the table and went to him, grabbing him and hugging his surprisingly bony form. "Oh, Keith!"  
  
"Happy Birthday, Mom," he murmured in her ear as they clung to each other.  
  
"Thank you, honey…" She kissed his cheek, smoothing his hair as she stared at his face.   
"Come on, Keith, sit over here by Mom while she opens her presents!" Tracy pulled out a chair and he found himself being propelled toward it, Shirley still holding his hand.  
  
Danny gave his brother a wink as he sat down across from him, while Laurie stood behind Keith, both hands on his shoulders.   
  
"It's a good thing you came down here; I was ready to go get you!" she said, her fingers digging into his shirt.  
  
Keith smiled sadly, reaching up and touching her hand as Shirley dabbed at her eyes.  
  
"Here you go, Mom, from Ken and me," Tracy handed her mother a small, prettily-wrapped package.   
  
Shirley opened it and gaped. It was a silver brooch that said "World's Best Grandma." She looked up at her daughter and her husband. "You…you're pregnant?!" she shrieked.  
  
Tracy nodded, beaming. "We're due this Thanksgiving!"  
  
"Tracy!" Laurie cried out, and she and Shirley took their turns hugging her as Danny and Chris congratulated Ken, then hugged their sister as well.  
  
"Thank God it was your present," Danny looked relieved. "I thought my tag and yours got mixed up!"  
  
Tracy swatted at him, giggling, as Keith stood up. "Way to go, Trace," he smiled, and she began to cry as she went into his arms.  
  
"You'll be a great uncle," she whispered, squeezing him tight.  
  
"You'll be a great mom," he replied, kissing her cheek.  
  
They parted as Danny cleared his throat. "Well, I didn't get you anything near what these two did…unless you get a call from a girl in Fargo, North Dakota…" he grinned, handing Shirley his present.  
  
That brought groans and laughs from his "audience" as Shirley tore off the wrapping. It was a box of audio tapes, marked "The Best of Danny Partridge," and Shirley laughed happily, holding it up for all to see.   
  
"Oh, a set of blanks, huh?" Laurie kidded.  
  
"Actually, dear sister, they are filled with segments from my radio show, each and every one showing my immense talent and eloquent wit."   
  
"Thank you, honey! I can't wait to hear them!" Shirley told him.  
  
"Not to mention your shyness and humility," Chris pulled a face, nudging his brother as he brought out a large box with a huge bow. "Here you go, Mom, from us guys."  
  
Shirley opened the box and lifted a sequined sweater from it. There was an audible gasp from the females in the room. "Oh, boys, this is just beautiful! Thank you!"  
  
She stood up, holding it up for show, and kissing each of her sons on the cheek.   
  
"Great taste, you guys!" Tracy nodded approvingly.  
  
"Yeah, I can imagine how much hair Keith had to sell to get that present!" Laurie marveled, to her brother's chagrin.  
  
Everyone laughed, recalling Danny and Chris's scheme to get their mother a fur coat by selling Keith's belongings to the groupies at school. That birthday seemed like yesterday, almost, to Shirley, and it only brought more tears to her eyes.  
  
"Oh-oh, Mom's turning on the waterworks again," Danny bemoaned.  
  
"Well, then, I'd better not give her my gift," Laurie shook her head.  
  
"Especially if it's something to eat," Chris teased, grinning at his sister's withering look.  
  
"It's not, but if you're not careful, I'll make my famous chipped beef on toast for your breakfast tomorrow," Laurie glowered at him. "Danny, come help me." They stepped into the living room, bringing in an easel with a large sheet draped over whatever it was that was on it.   
  
"Oh, my, what is this?" Shirley put her hand on her throat.  
  
Laurie grinned, proudly pulling the sheet away to reveal a 24x16 painting of the family, circa 1973. Shirley gasped.  
  
"Oh, honey, that's magnificent! Wherever did you get it?" She stepped closer.   
  
"One of my law partners is also an artist, so I had him do this from an old photograph." Laurie looked proud as Danny, Tracy, Ken and Shirley all gathered around it.  
  
"Were we ever that young?" Tracy shook her head.  
  
"Were we ever that cute?" Danny wanted to know.  
  
As their siblings and mother fussed over the painting, Keith and Chris stayed back. Keith was obviously not feeling up to the celebration, and Chris moved over into Shirley's chair.  
  
"How you doing?"  
  
"Okay…I'd rather be upstairs right now," Keith confessed, shifting in his seat.  
  
"Then, go. They'll understand. I can go with you."  
  
Keith nodded. "Yeah, I really think you'd better…" He winced, and Chris helped him stand up. He slipped out the side door as Chris followed, glancing back at his unsuspecting family.  
  
****  
Chris looked woefully around him. Keith's drinking binge not only had affected his brother's body, but his surroundings as well. There were cans and bottles littered throughout the room. Shaking his head, he looked down at Keith as he sat on the edge of the bed, leaning up against the post, his face, pale and drawn, dotted with sweat.  
  
"You really managed to drink all this in a couple of days?"  
  
"I thought it was helping…I didn't want to depend on the pills; guess I was afraid I'd run out." Keith swallowed. He felt more than miserable, but he tried not to show it.  
  
"It's never the answer to your problems, pal. I've found that out myself this past little while. All it's gotten me was a headache."  
  
Keith smiled in spite of the pain. "Looks like we're in the same boat, then, huh?"  
  
Chris nodded, sitting on the bed, and reaching over, putting his hand on Keith's neck. "You really could use a radiation treatment. Your nodes are swollen."  
  
"Can you guarantee it'll put me back in remission?"  
  
Chris looked sadly at him, shaking his head. "You know I can't."  
  
Pressing his head into the post, Keith closed his eyes, his chest heaving. "Then, forget it."  
  
"We could try some chemo."  
  
Keith swallowed hard. "No…look, all I want to do is stop the pain. Can you get me something stronger than what I've got?"  
  
"Not without risking serious addiction."   
  
Keith almost laughed. "What does it matter, Chris? I'm gonna die, anyway."  
  
Chris clenched his fists. "Stop saying that. You're NOT gonna die. You can still beat this!"  
  
His brother looked up at him, his deep brown eyes filled with sadness. "But at what price?" He said it so softly, Chris barely heard him.   
  
Chris looked down at him, swallowing. Keith grimaced with oncoming pain, and his whole body tensed, riding it through. Chris put a hand on Keith's shoulder. "I'll get you some Valium or something."  
  
****  
Chris and Danny cleaned Keith's room, gathering the empty cans and bottles and stuffing them into trash bags before their mother saw the disaster. She still hadn't been told of the seriousness of Keith's illness; none of the women had been. It was a terrible little secret between the three of them, but one that Chris had brought up time and again to his brothers. "She really should be told," he would say, right before Danny and Keith shot him down.  
  
Another reason for the cleaning out, was that Chris was afraid that Keith would end up taking the Valium with the alcohol; a deadly mix. He figured once they rid the room of the booze, it wouldn't be such a temptation. The Valium was strong; strong enough that Chris had to warn his brother of the dangers of addiction, just to be on the safe side. If, God willing, it turned out that Keith would NOT die from the cancer, Chris didn't want to see a brilliant career shattered on the wayside.  
  
Keith hadn't given up the booze without a fight; the argument that had ensued nearly carried out into the hall and down the stairs, but Danny had broken it up. And Chris had been adamant. No alcohol or no pills. No either, or. Keith's choice. Reluctantly, Keith succumbed to his brother's challenge.  
  
The room clean, Chris kept his part of the bargain and gave Keith five of the strong painkillers. "Okay, now, try not to take them unless you really, really need them. They're one step down from morphine and while they're wonderful in helping your pain, they are also a narcotic. The last thing you need is to get strung out on them," Chris instructed, placing the bottle into Keith's hand.  
  
Keith stared at it almost reverently, and Danny and Chris exchanged worried looks.   
  
"Did you hear me, buddy?" Chris asked, closing Keith's hand over the pill bottle with his own, if just to get his attention.  
  
Keith looked up. "Yeah, yeah, I heard you." He turned away, setting them on his desk as his brothers watched. "Thanks for the disaster cleanup."  
  
"No prob," Danny shrugged. "You…need anything else?"  
  
Keith shook his head, sitting on the bed. "Only time, I guess."  
  
Chris smiled, ruffling Keith's hair, and he and Danny started for the door.   
  
Keith gulped. "Uh, Chris?"  
  
Chris stopped, looking back. His brother's face was very pale and he looked so vulnerable, that Chris's heart went out to him. "Yeah, bud?" He moved back toward him as Danny stayed at the door, his hand on the knob.  
  
"How bad should I let the pain get before I take one of those?" he nodded toward the desk.  
  
Chris frowned. "Well, that depends on your tolerance level. You know what you can handle and what you can't."  
  
Keith nodded, clutching the post beside him. "Oh. I just…didn't want to let it…floor me, or anything."  
  
Chris eyed him. "Are you hurting right now?"  
  
Keith brought up a shaky hand to wipe at his eyes. "Yeah," he confessed in a whisper.  
  
Putting his hand on Keith's shoulder, Chris felt him push against it, and he looked at Danny. "Get him some water."  
  
Danny did as he was told as Chris stepped over, grabbing the pill bottle from the desk.  
  
Keith hunched forward, trying to muffle his outcry, and Chris was there beside him in an instant, shaking out a capsule. "Easy, buddy."  
  
"Hey, guys, what's up?"   
  
It was Laurie's voice in the doorway and Keith moaned as Chris whirled around.  
  
Seeing her older brother in obvious pain, Laurie put a hand to her mouth. "Oh, my god!"  
  
"He's okay," Chris left Keith's side, pushing Laurie back out into the hallway.   
  
"Chris - "  
  
Danny was hurrying past her with a Dixie cup full of water and Laurie wrenched away from Chris's hold on her arm, moving back to the doorway.   
  
"What's going on here?" she demanded, watching Keith take the Valium. She maneuvered in between her brothers. "Keith?"  
  
Still hunched over, Keith looked up at her, grimacing. "It's okay…I just had a little pain…"  
  
Laurie snatched the bottle from Danny's hand. "Valium? Keith, this is not for a little pain." She eyed Chris and Danny. "Is there something going on that I don't know about? Because if there is…" She shook the bottle at them threateningly.  
  
"Coming out of the remission is painful, Laurie," Chris tried to explain.  
  
"Yes, but, Valium?" She looked down at Keith. "You're holding something back, aren't you?"  
  
Keith looked away, and Laurie swallowed, her eyes riveted on him. "Keith…" She sat down on the bed next to him. He still wouldn't look at her, and she hesitantly put her arm around him.  
  
He pulled away, standing up, his back to her, and her gaze dropped to her lap. Chris and Danny edged toward the door, finally slipping out and closing it behind them as Keith remained standing. He glanced behind him. "You can go, too," he told Laurie.  
  
"Keith, talk to me. What's going on?"  
  
He shook his head. "I just want to be alone, okay?"  
  
She looked frustrated. Why was he pushing her away? They'd been so close when they were younger, but now… Her voice shook as she spoke. "I need you to talk to me. I'm scared and I don't understand why you keep running from me."  
  
She saw his shoulders sag. "Laurie, please."  
  
She began to cry as she rose from the bed, going up behind him. She put her hands on his shoulders. "I don't know why you're doing this, but…I want you to know that I love you and I'm here for you any time." She leaned in, kissing his cheek and moving to the door. He didn't move and she went out. In hearing the door shut, he winced, putting his head back and swore at the ceiling.  



	11. Chapter Eleven

CHAPTER ELEVEN  
  
"We need to get him out of his room," Danny was saying as everyone but Keith, as usual, gathered for lunch.  
  
"We NEED to get him some therapy," Laurie muttered. She was still shocked at her brother's indifference to her. Only one year apart in their ages, Keith and Laurie had had their differences, but they had also been the closest of the Partridge children. What one couldn't think of, the other could. It was almost as if they were twins in some respect. Laurie had loved her big brother the instant she was aware of it; he was her soul-mate, often getting her into trouble as much as helping her get out of it. Not that she had never instigated any of their little devious deeds, but Keith was a natural born leader, and Laurie usually followed him blindly, even with the repercussions that went along with their discretions. He'd always been there for her, and she for him. They were two of a kind, and Laurie could only imagine the frustration they put their parents through. Even when they hit puberty and it was no longer "cool" to hang around each other, and the teasing began, Laurie loved her brother fiercely and knew that he loved her as well. It was the closest thing to marriage either one of them would experience. Through thick and thin, for better or worse, in sickness and in health… So, why, all of a sudden, was Keith pushing her away; now that he needed her the most? She was hurt, befuddled, and not a little angry.  
  
"Laurie, that's not fair," Shirley scolded.  
  
"Mother, anyone who holes himself up like that, not letting any outside forces in, is not rowing with both oars." She had made a pact with Chris and Danny not to mention the Valium, but if Keith didn't come out of his shell and soon, she wasn't averse to going back on her word.  
  
"Actually, Danny's right, and in a small way, Laurie is too. If we could get him out and socializing, THAT would be therapy," Chris said.  
  
"Okay, so, let's do it. Where could we take him?" Ken agreed.  
  
"He likes the beach," Tracy suggested.  
  
"I…think we need to start small. First we need to get him out of the room. Down into the living room or something. We could all leave the house so he won't have us fussing over him, and maybe he'll realize that there really is a world out here, going on in spite of his problems." Chris smiled.  
  
"Well, he's sure adamant about being alone, that's for sure," Laurie frowned.  
  
"He seemed to be okay at the dinner the other night," Tracy nodded. "Then I guess he got to feeling sick or something."  
  
Chris smiled. "Exactly. Everything happened a little too fast for him that night, I think. That's why we need to ease him back into life, here. I mean, he's lost interest in just about everything; a classic sign of depression. He hasn't even mentioned his music, and we all know how much he loves to perform."  
  
Laurie brightened. "Hey, how about if we arrange a concert for him? Just a local thing. That would surely pull him out of this."  
  
Chris and Danny exchanged glances. "I think that would be a little much for now. Maybe later, after he's back into the swing of things…" Chris shook his head.  
  
"Well, whatever we can do, let's do it. He can't go on like this, and neither can we," Shirley said, sipping her coffee.  
  
Everyone at the table agreed.  
  
****  
  
Shirley knocked on Keith's door. "Honey, it's Mom. I'm going to be doing some laundry and I want to change your bedding."  
  
There was no answer, and Shirley frowned, trying the doorknob. Surprisingly, it turned and she opened the door slowly, wincing. Keith wasn't there, and she stepped into the room, looking around. The bed was rumpled and she shook her head, proceeding to strip it. As she did so, the bottle of Valium fell to the floor and she reached down, picking it up. Reading the label, her eyes widened. Valium! That was a strong painkiller; almost like morphine. Was her son in such pain that he needed this? And had he not told anyone? Her heart was in her throat as Keith came in, apparently startled at finding her there.  
  
"Mom!" His eyes went to the bottle in her hand, and he swallowed.  
  
"Keith, what…what is this?"  
  
He wanted to lie to her, to tell her some outlandish thing that she would probably never believe, but the look in her eyes blew that idea all to hell. He shrugged. "It's just what it says it is." He moved over to the desk, leaning on it, only half-wishing she'd go away.  
  
"Oh, honey, is the pain that bad?" She dropped the bedcovers, wanting so badly to just go to him and hold him, and knowing he would probably just push her away, as he'd done everyone else.  
  
He took a deep breath. "Sometimes it is, yeah." He forced a smile. "But I'm pulling through, you know?"  
  
The smile left as quickly as it had come, and Shirley moved toward him as she saw tears fill his eyes. Hesitantly, she put her hand on his shoulder, and he shook his head, the tears making shiny tracks on his face.   
  
"Oh, Keith…" She murmured, throwing caution to the wind and putting her arms around him.  
  
He sagged against her, beginning to sob, and she held him, rubbing his back and shedding a few tears herself.  
  
****  
At Danny's suggestion, Keith ventured out into the living room. No one was home; no one would bother him, he'd been promised, and particularly tired of looking at the same four walls every day, Keith had agreed to try and break the depression he was in. He'd felt so melancholy for so long, he'd forgotten that there was indeed, life beyond his room, and he came down the stairs, pausing to look at the painting that Laurie had given Shirley for her birthday; it hung on the wall opposite the banister. It was from a photograph of the six of them taken by one of the most famous rock photographers in the world: Henry Diltz. They were dressed in their green velvet costumes and all of them were smiling happily, as if they didn't have a care in the world. Keith and Laurie were leaning on one another, and he had his arm around Danny's shoulder. They stood behind Chris, Shirley and Tracy, who were seated on stools, and Keith smiled, noting that Chris had his baseball mitt on and was trying to hide it from view. He peered at each face in the painting, trying to read their thoughts. He remembered that photo being taken. They were just about to embark on their 1973 European tour, and their "Crossword Puzzle" album had just been released. Keith remembered grappling with the producer on a couple of the songs; they'd wanted them sung a different way than Keith had written them to be, and it was a battle between management and labor. In the end, Keith got his way, and the album became one of his favorites. He'd tooled around in the studio afterwards, just recording a couple of tunes he'd written on his own; his first attempt at soloing, if you will, but nothing came of it, not until way later on, when he really was a solo act.   
  
A feeling of complete sadness came over him, now, and he moved away from the painting, going to the stereo that sat under the window sill. Of all the albums Mom and the kids collected over the years, she always displayed the Family ones on top, and Keith sifted through them, finally taking the "Crossword Puzzle" one out and putting the record onto the turntable. It sounded scratchy, but comfortable, and Keith smiled, thinking that he should somehow get their recordings onto compact discs if not just for posterity's sake.  
  
The music began and he took a seat on the sofa, feeling just a little awkward at hearing his own voice, but letting the nostalgia sweep across him. He pictured them in the recording studio, going through several takes before they found one fit to press, and he smiled at the endurance of the smaller kids. Those recording sessions were tough on Shirley, Laurie and him, let alone Danny, Chris and Tracy, who gave up a lot of their childhood in order to make this dream of his come true. But the fact that they were just kids was everywhere, no matter what they were doing. Tracy's ever-present dolls, and Chris's beloved baseball glove; Danny's skateboard. Even Laurie had her scrapbooks and craft projects. Shirley was too busy mothering everyone to worry about aesthetics, and Keith was happy as long as he was surrounded by his music; the ability to play it, write it and sing was all he ever needed.  
  
  
He must have fallen asleep, because he sat up to the sound of the needle going back and forth at the end of the record, and as he moved, pain wracked him. The Valium was upstairs, and he sat there, pressing his head hard into the back of the couch, wishing he had at least some alcohol to numb this pain…  
  
Then his eyes caught the liquor cabinet. He knew that his mother always kept something in there, in case of guests or a dinner party, and he swallowed, pushing off of the sofa, however awkwardly. Sliding the door open, he heaved a sigh of relief when he saw the vodka bottle sitting there. Without even thinking twice, he grabbed it, opening it and downing a good mouthful. It was strong, making him cough, but he didn't care. Wiping his mouth, he sank back onto the sofa, clutching the bottle in his hand. As soon as the alcohol took effect, he could make it back upstairs. So much for trying to beat the depression….  
  
He lay back, waiting for the numbness to seep slowly over him.  
  
  
  
Keith looked at the room around him as it wavered; everything was a lucid gray color and he clutched the vodka bottle to his body. Somehow, he'd gotten upstairs…he didn't quite remember how; he was just suddenly in his room. He felt a little nauseous and the pain was still there, pawing at him, unrelenting. Through his drunken haze, he saw the Valium bottle sitting on the desk, and he reached for it, unsuccessful at first, but finally getting it in his grasp. If the booze wouldn't knock out the pain, these certainly would. He fumbled with the child-proof cap for a bit; it must have been Chris's idea to put it on there. Finally working it off, he dumped the last two capsules into his hand, then put them in his mouth, washing them down with the vodka. God, the pain was unbearable! The worst he'd felt, yet. If this didn't work, he didn't know what else to do…jump out of the window, maybe? He turned to go back to the bed, but the desk chair was in his way and he tripped, falling forward and hitting his head on the corner. On the floor and slightly stunned, he reached up, feeling his head just above the right temple. When he brought his hand down, he saw the blood. He thought it was blood. Could blood be gray? He felt his heart begin to pound, quickly at first, then it slowed, and he tried to gather momentum to get up, but failed. The pain saw to that. Now every little movement he made was agonizing. Curling up on the floor, he whimpered at first, holding his stomach, then as the pain increased, he cried out.   
And no one came.  



	12. Chapter Twelve

CHAPTER TWELVE  
  
Tracy entered the front door cautiously, her arms loaded with groceries. She was hoping to find Keith still downstairs so she could talk to him alone, IF he would permit it, but he wasn't in the living room. Perhaps the kitchen; she thought, moving in there only to be disappointed once again. She put the bags on the table.  
  
Ken was miniature golfing with her brothers, Shirley was with Reuben and Laurie was at the gym. Tracy had tried to kill time by shopping, but her heart wasn't really in it, so she stopped by the grocery store and picked up some much needed items and came home. She didn't really have a reason to talk to her brother, but they hadn't said 'boo' to one another since Tracy had made her announcement at Shirley's dinner a few nights ago, and she missed him.   
  
Shaking her head, she set her purse next to the grocery bags and went back into the living room, starting up the stairs. She would just check on Keith, maybe he would still be willing to talk, and if not, she could always take a nice, hot shower.  
  
She approached his room quietly. If he was asleep, she didn't want to waken him. The door was ajar and, puzzled, she pushed it open. It was dark, the curtains were drawn, and Tracy squinted, glancing at the bed. It was empty, that much she could see in the light from the hallway emanating on it. Then, just as she went to shut the door, wondering where he could have gone, she saw something on the floor. She opened the door wider, not wanting to believe her eyes. "Oh, my god, Keith!" she cried, turning on the light.  
  
He was still in a fetal position, and only barely conscious as she ran to him, falling on her knees beside him, her hand on his shoulder. He moaned, and she gasped, seeing the blood on his face.  
  
"Oh, honey, don't move…I'll call an ambulance!" She jumped up, dashing from the room.  
  
  
In his delirium, Keith could hear a voice…a woman's voice. It sounded panicky and he tried to open his eyes, but he couldn't. He couldn't speak, he couldn't move; just thinking about moving brought him severe pain. He thought he felt someone or something touch him and he frowned. Had someone come to help him? Oh, god, if he could just open his eyes…  
  
Again, he could feel the pressure of touch and he responded, only able to moan, then came the voice again, but he couldn't understand what she - if it was a female - was saying. It was just as well…he couldn't answer anyway.  
  
Tracy was sobbing as she knelt beside her brother, petting his head. He wasn't fully conscious, but she hoped she could hear him anyway. "Keith, the ambulance is on the way…hold on, baby…I'm right here…Oh, Keith, what happened?" She looked around her for clues, and her eyes settled on the vodka bottle. Sobbing harder, she sat on the floor, trying to lift his upper torso so that he was in her arms. He moaned again, and she shifted, sliding her body underneath him. It was then that she saw the Valium bottle, and she picked it up, staring at the label. Had he been foolish enough to combine the two? And, how many had he taken? Still sobbing, she held him, stroking his face and head. "Come on, Keith…you have to pull through this…you're gonna be an uncle, remember? I'll name him after you, I promise…just hang in there…" She was babbling, but in her fear, she wasn't even listening. She just knew she had to talk to him.  
  
He choked, the motion making him fold over even more and Tracy held on tighter, lying her head on his, feeling his hair as it tickled her face and throat. "Easy, sweetie…" she soothed as he moaned again. His head wound had stopped bleeding, and she stared at the dried blood in his hair, absently and gently picking it out as she kept talking. "This reminds me of the time I broke my foot…remember? I was five and we were at the park…you were supposed to be watching Chris, Danny and me, but you were busy talking to a girl and I fell off the monkey bars. You came running over and held me in your arms while Danny and Chris ran and got Mom. You sang me a song to keep my mind off of the pain…remember that, Keith?"  
  
He writhed, moaning again as she gripped him tighter, lifting her head to hear if the ambulance was coming. It was silent around her, and she shivered with fear. Still petting his head, she could barely see him through the tears in her eyes. He was pale and moaning, but breathing well, and she shifted her position on the floor as her left leg began to fall asleep. He moaned with the movement and she looked down, whispering, now. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry…" She said, rubbing his shoulder, letting him know that she was still there. Dear God, what would happen when the ambulance did come? She would have to leave him to go let them in, and the thought scared her. She could only hope that someone else would come home…Please, God, she prayed…send somebody…  
  
Still shivering, she pulled him closer. His skin was cool to the touch, now, too, and she thought about taking the bedspread off the bed, but it was too far of a reach, so, she began to massage his arm, trying to envelop him, keep him from going into shock. She was lucky he hadn't vomited, she thought, if he had indeed overdosed on the liquor and the painkillers… Overdosed. What a horrifying thought! She hoped it was an accident. To think that he would purposely try and take his own life made Tracy nauseous herself.  
  
She heard a noise somewhere within the house, and, clutching Keith's limp form, Tracy began to scream. "Somebody! Help me! I'm upstairs in Keith's room!!!"  
  
Her cry brought more noise as Laurie appeared in the doorway. Seeing the scene before her, the older girl cried out. "Oh dear God…!" as she bolted into the room. "What happened?"  
  
" I don't know…I found him lying on the floor! I think…I think he may have overdosed…" Tracy wept. She held out the pill bottle. "The ambulance should be coming…"  
  
"Over…?" Laurie couldn't believe her ears. She took the bottle from her sister, wincing. The valium! Then she spotted the vodka bottle and her stomach knotted. Damn him!  
  
The wail of the ambulance siren broke through and Tracy gripped Keith tighter. "Let the paramedics in!"  
  
Nodding numbly, Laurie stumbled for the door.  
  
  
Tracy let Laurie take over as the paramedics took Keith downstairs to the ambulance. She was still in shock at finding him so helpless and now she needed to worry about herself. She was at a delicate stage of her pregnancy and she feared that this whole incident would cause her to lose her baby. Tracy expressed her fear to her sister, and Laurie told her to go to the hospital with Keith and get checked out herself. Laurie would wait for the family to come home and everyone would meet there.  
  
The paramedic helped Tracy into the ambulance and she sat there, still sobbing, as they worked on Keith there on the stretcher before her, answering their questions as best she could. Yes, he was on the floor when she found him, no, she hadn't seen him take the Valium or the Vodka; no, he hadn't vomited, at least not to her knowledge, yes, he'd been unconscious when she found him. It was terrifying, and Tracy just wanted Ken there to hold her and tell her everything would be all right. They closed the ambulance doors and Tracy caught a glimpse of Laurie through the rectangular window as she and Keith were driven away.  
  
****  
"They won't let us see Keith; they're pumping his stomach," Shirley told her brood and Reuben as they gathered in still another waiting room. They'd gotten home to find Laurie in hysterics, sobbing something about Keith and Tracy in the hospital, and as soon as everyone had gathered, it was one big caravan to San Pueblo General. "They let Ken go in with Tracy…oh, dear God, I hope the baby's all right…" Shirley was already worn down and they'd been there only fifteen minutes.  
  
"I can't believe this is happening," Laurie muttered, her face still blotched with tears.   
  
"Neither can I," Shirley put her arm around her daughter.   
  
"Well, do they think it was an overdose, or what?" Reuben asked.  
  
"Dr. Barnes said he didn't think he took very many pills, but with them being mixed with the alcohol, they didn't want to take any chances. He'll be lucky to escape without liver damage."  
  
"He only had five Valiums to begin with, not counting his other painkillers," Chris was pacing. "And I warned him about the alcohol…"  
  
"So, you think he did it on purpose?" Laurie looked horrified.  
  
"I don't know what to think! He's been so unpredictable since this all began! And if his irresponsibility has hurt Tracy, I swear, I'm gonna kill him." Chris looked anxiously toward the doors that led to the emergency room.  
  
Laurie shook her head. "You know what Tracy would say if she heard you talk like that? She'd be all over you!"  
  
"Yeah, and she'd be right. This isn't the time to point fingers! We just need for the both of them to be okay!" Danny swallowed, making himself sit down. He felt as nervous as a cat.  
  
"I'm not pointing fingers. I am just as much to blame, giving into him. More liquor, more pills…I should have been firm. I SHOULD have just made him get the treatments and stopped babying him." Chris kept pacing.  
  
Shirley looked up at him. "Honey, there's nothing anyone could have done. Keith's old enough to make his own decisions, good or bad. He wouldn't have listened to anyone."  
  
They saw Ken coming towards them and everyone got to their feet.   
  
"How's Tracy?" Shirley breathed.  
  
He smiled. "She's okay. They did an ultrasound and the baby's still as perfect as ever."   
His news was greeted with cheers and cries of joy, and he looked relieved as he went on, "She's resting right now, and then as soon as she's feeling up to it, she'll join you. I told them to keep her back there for as long as they could. I don't think she needs to be in on all this worry over Keith." He looked at Shirley. "How's he doing? Any word?"  
  
Shirley clutched his hand. "Well, they were pumping his stomach."  
  
Ken pulled a face. "Doesn't sound like much fun! Well, if you don't mind, I'd like to go be with my wife."  
  
Shirley and Laurie both hugged him. "Give her our love, and tell her we'll do the worrying over Keith."  
  
"I will," Ken smiled, moving off towards the doors from whence he'd come.  
  
"That's a relief!" Laurie swallowed, clutching Danny, who held her tightly.  
  
Shirley's eyes glistened with tears. "It certainly is! Well, there is a bright spot in this after all!" She was just about to sit down when Dr. Barnes appeared. "Doctor?"  
  
He smiled. "Have seats, everyone. I have good news and…some not so good news."  
  
Shirley clutched Danny's hand as her brood and Reuben sat down around them.  
  
"There's no liver damage; he hadn't exactly overdosed, but there was quite a lot of alcohol in his system. You were smart to only give him five pills." The doctor nodded at Chris. "The two he did take we were able to bring up, and as soon as we can lower his blood alcohol level, we're going to put him on another painkiller. That means that he's really hurting right now, and he's very grumpy."  
  
"That's our Keith," Danny smiled, squeezing his mother's hand.  
  
"What about the Hodgkins?" Chris swallowed. "Has it progressed?"  
  
The doctor winced. "Well, he's just below Stage 2 at this point."  
  
Chris blew out a breath. "Oh, god…" He shook his head.  
  
"He has to start his treatments up again, no if ands or buts."  
  
Chris rose. "Can I go back there? I need to pop some sense into him."  
  
Dr. Barnes nodded. "That's exactly what he needs right now. He's in treatment room four."  
  
Danny looked up, grinning. "Go get 'im, Tiger."  
  
Chris moved to the door like a man with a purpose.  
  
  
Keith was lying back in the bed, his face trickling with sweat as he fought the pain. He was startled when Chris yanked back the curtain, the look on his face that of a warrior of some sort.  
  
"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" Chris said lowly, and Keith raised an eyebrow. Two swear words in one week. This was a new record.  
  
"What are you mad at?" Keith queried.  
  
"You're almost Stage 2, you know that?"  
  
Keith looked away. "So they tell me."  
  
"I'm having them schedule you for treatments starting tomorrow."  
  
Keith pushed his head back into the pillow, making a face as the pain rose and then faded. "And suppose I refuse?" He gasped, tensing.  
  
Chris grabbed a rag and dabbed at his brother's face. "I'll have them sedate you or something, but you're going."  
  
Keith looked at him. The look on Chris's face told him he wasn't kidding. "Why? So I can puke my guts out some more? There's an incentive, huh?"  
  
"Hey, it's all I've got right now. That and the fact that you have a little nephew or a niece that would like to see their uncle, and not just in some fan magazine poster." Chris paused. "Tracy almost lost the baby today, Keith."  
  
Keith's eyes widened. "She did?"  
  
"Yeah, because she was trying to help you out. I don't want to make you feel guilty or anything, but this whole incident very nearly caused a miscarriage."  
  
Keith felt sick, now. "Oh, god…" He closed his eyes. It had been Tracy holding him all the while he was on the floor. He couldn't quite pinpoint who it was, but now he knew. "Is she okay?" He tried to sit forward, but Chris pushed him back.  
  
"She's fine. But think about what you'll be doing to her, to all of us, if you don't continue fighting this, pal. You can't deny us our right to have you around, even if you are a pain in the butt sometimes." Chris smiled, squeezing his shoulder.  
  
Keith swallowed. "I don't know…" he looked over at Chris, tears filling his eyes. "I'm just so damned tired…"  
  
Chris nodded, "I know, me, too."  
  
Keith eyed him as his little brother looked down at his lap. He'd been so wrapped up in his problems, he'd forgotten about Chris's quandary. "You can't give up being a doctor, you know. I mean, what kind of example are you to me if you do that, huh?" Keith said after a moment.  
  
Chris looked up and Keith smiled for a brief second.  
  
"Look, I'll make you a deal. You stay in medical school and I'll take my treatments." Keith swallowed.  
  
Chris chuckled. "That's hardly fair. I have to get bombed at a frat party in order to throw up. You get to do it automatically."  
  
Keith laughed, then winced from the pain it caused, pushing his head back hard into the pillow. Chris reached up, clutching his brother's hand and wiping off his forehead. After the pain faded, he swallowed. "How about it? Is it a deal?"  
  
Chris sighed. "Okay, if it saves your life, I guess I can live with that."  
  
Keith smiled tiredly. "Whatever it takes, huh? But I want to see report cards!"  
  
"Sure, as long as you send me blood samples." To Keith's look, he shrugged. "Maybe I can get extra credit!"  
  
Keith started to laugh again, but pain shot through him. "Oh, god…how about if I go to medical school and you fight this crap?"  
  
Chris's smile faded. "I'd trade places with you in a minute, you know that."  
  
Keith looked at him. The kid's face was grim, and amazingly, Keith got the feeling that he wasn't kidding. "Hey, Chris?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Thanks."  
  
There were tears in the younger man's eyes as the door opened, and Shirley entered.  
  
"Keith Partridge, I have a bone to pick with you. I was just informed that you have given up on yourself, and I will just not stand for it!"  
  
"Mom, I - " Keith began.  
  
"Stop!" Shirley held up her hand, her eyes fiery. "You will continue with your treatments, young man, and you will do so until you have gone back into remission, is that understood?"  
  
Keith looked over at Chris, who was trying so hard not to smile. "Yes, ma'am," he sighed.  
  
She looked surprised at his quick agreement, then smiled, seeming rather proud of herself as Chris chuckled out loud. She turned to him. "And you, Christopher, are going back to medical school. Whatever gave you the idea that you wouldn't make a good doctor? You are my son, and you will make me proud!"  
  
"Okay, Mom," Chris nodded, reaching over and kissing her cheek.  
  
Taken aback, Shirley smiled. "Well, I'm glad you two are in good moods." She bent down, kissing Keith's forehead. "Feeling any better, honey?"  
  
Keith nodded. "Yeah, but unfortunately, this is far from over."  
  
She put a loving hand on his face, her eyes locking into his. "Just know that I love you, sweetheart, and I'm here for you any time."  
  
He swallowed. "I know, Mom." He reached up for her and she gently took him into her arms as the door opened and Laurie, Danny and Reuben peeked in.  
  
"See, I told you, no bloodshed!" Danny barked as Keith and Shirley parted.  
  
"Did you read them the riot act, Mom?" Laurie wanted to know as she sat on the edge of Keith's bed, taking his hand.  
  
"Yes, I did, and they've agreed to everything."  
  
"Really?" Danny seemed impressed. "Treatments and all, huh?" He looked over at Keith.  
  
"Yeah. I decided, hey, what's a little vomit between family members?" Keith said tiredly.  
  
"And…medical school?" Danny eyed his younger brother.  
  
"My scalpel awaits," Chris smiled.  
  
"Oh, you're studying to be a surgeon?" Laurie asked.  
  
"No, I just need one, to cut Danny's tongue out for snitching on Keith and me!" Chris replied, much to Danny's delight.  
  
The door opened once more, and Tracy came in with Ken. "Well, I can see the fighting's begun again…everything's back to normal!"  
  
"Oh, honey, I'm so happy you and the baby are all right!" Shirley said, hugging her.  
  
"Thanks, Mom. Yep, we're up and running okay." She moved to Keith as he looked a bit uncomfortable. "I'm glad you're okay, too," she said, putting her hand on his head.  
  
"Ditto, Trace. I'm sorry…" He answered softly.  
  
"You are going to beat this, Keith. Little Keith here's counting on it," she patted her stomach.  
  
He smiled. "You're really naming him after me?"  
  
"You bet we are! We wouldn't have it any other way!" She sat down next to him.  
  
"Can I teach him how to play the guitar?"  
  
"Absolutely!"  
  
He sighed. "I guess I'll have to stick around for a while, then, huh?"  
  
Tracy nodded, her eyes moist. "Just, oh, for the next ninety years."  
  
"I'll see what I can do about that," he said tiredly.  
  
"See that you do." She went into his arms.   
  
He closed his eyes, hoping it was one promise he wouldn't break.  
THE END  



End file.
